Clothilde
by ChickDocHoliday
Summary: Snape falls for his former student who has since gone bad. Clothilde is the bodyguard hired on to protect Harry as the last defense against Voldemort. SnapeOC. OC is a dark, character with a fairly detailed past. Final ch.22 up Aug 10, 2007.
1. Default Chapter

"Clothilde"

Chapter 1 "What if Mary Sue had a..."

"You want me to shadow Harry then?" Came the flat, alto voice of the woman.

Dumbledore's eyes were on her, penetrating her very soul. She knew he was probably a mind-reader... she had seen very little of him in her own school days, but now many years later being with him in his office~ she could tell he was probably having a good look at her psyche... if that was possible, however, he probably had decided he wanted her prior to this interview at any rate. He mostly likely knew who she was when he had sent the owl to her.

"I knew of you yes," he smiled.

The woman's eyes widened, he _was_ a bit of a mind-reader.

"I remember you from your teenaged years... the dueling club."

"I'm flattered... I think," she smiled faintly. A smile on a hardened face.

His expression remained kind.

"Are you sure you want me for this job? You know the types of jobs I am generally accustom to are~"

"I can assure you I require all the talent you've acquired over the years."

She flinched, and gazed hard, down at a lovely oriental carpet, "do you know... of... my past?... Some of the things I've done... um... some of the jobs I've taken have been rather less than savory at times. You should be aware of that."

"I have the utmost faith in you Clothilde."

She nodded. "You honor me."

"Ah, I believe we have guests," he said popping a lemon drop into his mouth. "If you are ready to meet the staff you'll be working closely with."

"I didn't hear~"

There was a sudden knock at his door.

Dumbledore moved across the room behind her chair and opened it. She could hear the voices of people who had taught even when she went to school here... some fourteen years prior. She overheard him making some sort of announcement about her~

"You all know the many precautions I have tried to take to ensure the safety of Harry Potter. I have decided to hire on someone to look after him."

"Look after him Headmaster what do you mean?" The voice was Snape's... of course, still nosy after all these years.

She was climbing out of the cushy chair now, facing the awfully assembled group of professors. Tall, slender, extremely long blonde hair falling in strings into a pale, battle-worn face. 

Snape knew her yet... couldn't place her.

She was in her early thirties, her features were delicate... yet age and inner demons marred what could've been pretty.

"This is Clothilde Corgan."

"Clothilde." Professor McGonagall sounded as if she was trying to seem pleased while her voice actually faltered and betrayed her.

Snape's eyes narrowed, he knew her now, at least by reputation and if no one else approved of her he could certainly take this opportunity to get a few digs in and see how well she could hold up or... how far his self-hatred could push another person from him.

"Professor," she greeted McGonagall stiffly.

"You're wearing armor."

Snape.

Clothilde smiled and said flatly, "this explains why I've been having trouble with some of those yoga positions."

She met his eyes realizing he had no idea who she was... he only knew her by the most recent rumors. As a matter of fact, no one seemed to recognize her... well, except Dumbledore, and that went without saying. He was simply a far superior wizard. Had she really changed so much? 

"And do you plan to mount your horse and engage in combat?" he sneered.

"I have no horse."

She wasn't playing his game and she didn't seem intimidated in the slightest either, he was going to be stuck ignoring or being civil to her.

She was, in fact, in armor. Her shoulders, arms and shins were armored with silver, slightly stained and battered pieces. What lay beneath her tabard was anyone's guess, a breastplate perhaps, or stiff leather. It made no sound as she moved about the room... not surprising that she had put some sort of silencing spell on it. It is hard to lurk about in the shadows in plate armor otherwise. At her side, hung a gladius. This was an athame. Not many in the wizarding community chose this form of wand, but for her it was the perfect choice. Snape's eyes found that almost instantly. Even now as she was attempting polite conversation with the rest of the staff she could feel him watching her... appraising her. Wondering if she was as ruthless as the ministry had claimed... the ex-auror.

Almost as if she knew what he was thinking their eyes locked for a moment.

"And..." he began again sweeping his attention from her to Dumbledore, "how is Miss Corgan going to be _looking after_ Mr. Potter exactly headmaster?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as if he was amused by the intereaction between the two parties. He nudged Clothilde to speak up.

"I will shadow him."

"Shadow," he cocked his head, then took a perturbed sort of breath, "you mean you'll be following him around."

"Yes exactly."

"How very... brave." _Stupid._

She actually exposed teeth this time as she smiled. How had he managed that? She was supposed to be annoyed, not amused.

"Does that mean you'll be following Mr. Potter to all of his classes?" Came Minerva's concerned voice. "That could be quite disruptive to his peers."

Clothilde said nothing, she only looked at Dumbledore, he was the one who had appointed her to this task. The rest of the professors followed her eyes to the headmaster who began to answer all of their questions regarding her. The bodyguard of The Boy Who Lived.

She turned to leave but Snape caught her arm.

"I know who you are," he said.

"Oh... really?"

Her eyes were large and gray he noticed now that she was closer. She looked like one of the portraits of a woman from the 18th century with her whiter than white skin and eyes so large they were nearly out of porportion with the rest of her face. Unfortunately though her eyes were appraising him icily.

"Yes," he continued nonplussed by her less than cooperative attitude, he was a teacher after all, he was used to that. "I know... you are a mercenary, a wand for hire if you will."

She raised an eyebrow, "so does everyone in this room."

"I know you were an Auror with the Ministry of Magic but you lost your position because you were considered too ruthless."

"Hmm... and?"

"And...."

"And, what did you plan to do with this information Mr. Snape? You weren't hoping to blackmail me I trust because obviously Albus Dumbledore knows about my... less than pleasant past.... Or... or did you simply want to warn me that you knew Death Eater?"

He flinched and withdrew his hand. 

"How did you~"

"I was an Auror with the Ministry of Magic. I read your file."

For a moment his cool mask slipped, he looked up at her incredulous feeling suddenly exposed. "That's... in the past."

She could almost feel sorry for him, the frightening potions master standing, nearly broken here before her. She knew what that felt like. 

"Glad to hear it." Was the callous reply she pushed him away with however. "If Dumbledore will permit me, I shall find my own way to my chambers."

The chatter on the other side of the room quieted down as Dumbledore turned to address her. "Yes, certainly my dear you must be worn out. Filch will see you to your room. And... I will see you here for breakfast tomorrow and to meet Harry Potter."

"Thank you," she nodded, her body was cold and steady as she sauntered out.

Snape remained, his shoulders rounded as if he had just suffered a defeat.

Dumbledore's eyes were on both of them wondering... perhaps even knowing the conversation which had just transpired.

* * * * *

Filch led her down to the dungeons. She was a little surprised her rooms would be down here not too far from the Slytherin dormitory, especially after inquiring with as to what household Harry was a part of. Clothilde thought perhaps there was not enough room near Gryffindor tower or... perhaps this is where riffraff like herself ended up. No matter really, she would spend most of her time with her charge regardless of where her belongings lie. 

"Here we are Miss."

'Miss', she mused as he unlocked her door with a large rusty skeleton key. She did not consider herself a 'miss' these days, 'ma'am' maybe... it made her think of her great aunt, ninety-four years old and still all of her letters were addressed 'Miss'.

She glanced at the little dirty man before her, apparently he was waiting for her to wake up and go into her quarters. Clothilde said nothing as she did so. Filch followed looking around to see that everything was in order.

There was a blazing fire in the fireplace, it was a bit dank inside otherwise and she thought she would do a little magical redorating as soon as the caretaker took his leave. She strode into her bedroom while Argus Filch wandered about the pantry area.

"All of your luggage seems to be in order?"

"Looks it."

"Dumbledore saw to that."

His voice carried a heavy skeptical tone, she assumed he'd heard some rather bleak rumors about her as well.

"All seems to be in order," she said emerging from the bedroom.

"One last thing, be sure and let me know if you run into Peeves."

She raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"He's a poltergeist who has been haunting the halls here, driving _me_ crazy is what he's been doing. Anyhow, he's on his way out of here soon as I find 'im. Spoke to Dumbledore and told him I've had enough. Ever since Peeves has been hiding, probably haunting a drawer somewhere. Serves 'im right, been driving me crazy for the last ten years!"

"I'll let you know if I see him."

Filch fixed her with a coarse skeptical look, then an odd expression came over his face. "What the hell are those?" he said startled for a moment.

Clothilde glanced over her shoulder at the row of jars. "Brains."

"You keep jars of brains in your pantry?! Human... human brains? Why I've never heard of such a~"

"Would they add more flair to my study you think?"

"I think that would make you look a bit less deranged."

"Hmm," she shrugged and casting a spell, caused the jars to levitate. Happy little bottles and colorful jars full of brains went dancing across the room into the study.

"Not exactly Mary Poppins," Filch muttered as he left her to her own... devices.

As she heard the door close behind her she sank down into a wing back chair and began to magically repaint the livingroom a nice rusty red color. 

"You can come out now," she hissed.

"So you did come back Charlotte~"

"Clothilde, Peeves. Clothilde Corgan."

"Yeah whatever."

"You remembered... you're one of the only... entities here who did. You can hide in here if you want I won't mention it to Filch... one thing however."

He rolled his eyes.

"Don't use that name again."

He released an annoyed sort of whine.

"I could always notify Dumbledore~"

"I'll... I'll do as you ask," he managed sounding like a sulky child. "Red hmm?"

"I like red walls."

"That looks kind've like blood doesn't it?" 

"Oh does it?"

He laughed, it sounded rather horrifying and then that's all there was, he had disappeared completely leaving only laughter. She stared into the fire... that was when she noticed the fingerprints... and a smiley-face on her freshly painted livingroom walls.

'Oh well,' she thought to herself, there were bigger things in her life to worry about. 

She made her way to the bath, she needed to get some rest so she could meet this famous boy with a fresh face... or well, fresh-er. She pulled off her armor, tabard and the silk scarf at her throat, tossed some water over her face briskly and scrubbed it with a towel. The mirror before her reflected a slightly less attractive woman than she'd hoped it would... ah well, she could use some _glamour_ she supposed to make herself seem more attractive, or she could smash the mirror into a million pieces. That thought made her smile a bit. She wiped the mirror of it's fogginess from the steam of the hot water she'd been washing in. There, reflected in the looking glass was that ugly scar... the one her scarf covered. It was a particularly nasty one, bloated in some parts, and right across the base of her throat where someone had slit it. That one had nearly cost her, her life... and it _had _cost her the life of the person she was supposed to be keeping alive. Putting that thought from her mind she glanced down at her naked form. Her body, although quite attractive in shape, slender and delicate... had become a tangle of dings and scars over the years. She didn't really expect anyone else to ever see it again, so she supposed it really didn't matter.

Clothilde shuffled into her bedroom. Mmm... it felt nice in there. Very peaceful. Probably Dumbledore's doing. She should probably thank him for that. He obviously knew she was tired... on so many levels.

Well, tomorrow to meet 'the boy who lived', she smiled and sunk deeply into the featherbed, sound asleep completely unaware of the disaster Peeves was making of her livingroom.

  
  



	2. Clothilde Chapter 2

"Clothilde"

Chapter 2 "Playing with fire"

There had been talk at Hogwarts since the beginning of fall semester that Harry would be assigned some form of protection now that Voldermort had returned. Harry had chalked all that up to rumor... until now.

It was a fine December morning, clear and bright, there had been a heavy snowfall the night before when Dumbledore had summoned Harry to his office. It was extremely early, he hoped the Headmaster would have tea set out... he hoped, he hoped this wasn't going to be what he thought. A bodyguard. The talk was that it was bound to happen and that talk had gone on for a very long time, Harry wondered at the delay and secretly hoped it might end up being Sirius by some miracle. 

Dumbledore greeted Harry at the door to his office smiling warmly. There was a breakfast set out on an impromptu table and three chairs. It smelled wonderful and nearly pushed all worry from his mind. "Harry, as you know," Dumbledore began and the boy's stomach lurched; it was true. The Headmaster gave him a knowing look. "I have heard the rumors as well and they're true, I have decided to appoint you a guardian.

"Harry Potter, this is Clothilde Corgan." He motioned behind him opening much like a door to reveal a grim figure behind him. Harry moved forward mechanically. The form was much hidden in the shadow, bundled up in the darkness, a sliver of white light ran against the back of her hair, haloing her a bit. She was rather tall for a woman, perhaps it was that which made her seem imposing... or the fact she was wearing armor. Clothilde strode from a darkly curtained corner of Dumbledore's office. He could now see she was wearing a long silken white tabard which had small, silver pentacles embroidered into it, these shimmered magically in the firelight.

She had one hand on the hilt of a short sword, hung low on her hip... the glove her hand was encased in was white doe-skin and it glittered with tiny pointed spikes over the knuckles. He wondered if that was for show or if~ Her face eased from the dark, long dark blonde hair hung haphazardly over one shoulder. Her eyes were dark, deadly serious... and weary. 

Clothilde loomed over him for a moment, her hair hanging in her face, she peered at him down her long, crooked nose... the imposing part had little to do with height he realized. But, before he could think much more on the _hows_ and _whys_ of this person, her face warmed and she smiled at him nearly the way a mother might. Well... nearly.

"Hello Harry," she said in a strong and warm alto voice extending her hand.

'_Of, of course',_ he thought foolishly, _'she's here to help me, not hurt me... I think.'_ He shook her hand.

"Shall we sit?" Dumbledore suggested. "Clothilde used to work as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic Harry. I should tell you that now because a lot of people already possess this knowledge and I'd hate for you to hear it second hand."

"You did?" He said a little too excited to eat now. "What's it like? Why don't you do that anymore?"

"I was asked to resign."

Dumbledore watched the mixed emotions; confusion, fear, uncertainty, quizzical interest; reflected on his face. Clothilde glanced down at her breakfast amused. "Harry, why don't you have a chocolate covered doughnut? They're very good."

"Okay," was all he could think to say as he ate a little.

The breakfast meeting finished in nearly awkward silence with only Dumbledore talking and generally enjoying himself. Clothilde's stony quiet was quite unnerving as she drank several cups of coffee and snatched thoughtful glances at Harry every so often. He wondered if she was going to be attending classes with him, or spending time with the Ron and Hermione and himself... or hanging out in Gryffindor Tower. The possibilities of horrors which lay in store for him were endless. Not to mention what Draco Malfoy was going to say about this newest tabloid moment for the _famous_ Harry Potter. He groaned at the thought. Or Ron, how was Ron going to take this? Why couldn't he just be anonymous? Swallowing down the last of his toast he felt a lump of uncertainty in his stomach... he had a potions class in a short time. First class of the day... Snape, Snape was going to have a field day.

"Well, that was a lovely breakfast but I fear Harry will need to get going to class very soon." Dumbledore said standing up. 

Clothilde also stood, her eyes went from Harry's obvious apprehension to Dumbledore in sort of a caring, _'I remember what it was like to be young'_ sort of way. The Headmaster caught this and looked to Harry again.

"You needn't worry too much, your professors are aware that Miss Corgan is now with us, and that she'll be attending classes with you, at least for a little while."

Harry looked sick. "That's good."

Clothilde followed him out leaving Albus with a fleeting glimpse of amusement.

* * * * *

He was walking rather fast to... the dungeon... potions class? And fast enough to keep her at a distance she guessed. They entered... late. Harry was horrified at the prospect and hurried to a table beside the rest of his 'trio'.

"Who is that?" Ron whispered pointing at Clothilde.

Harry sighed rolling his eyes, "that's my... guard." He looked so pitiful Ron didn't know what to say.

The lecture had begun, and Snape's eyes flashed at him as he scurried into the room but then he suddenly forgot about Potter as he saw Clothilde enter behind the boy. She was so full of herself, swaggering... it made him want to wretch. 

"And here is our protector now... in her _armor_," he added with a sardonic flip.

The entire class turned to see who he was talking to. She felt their eyes on hers but it didn't effect her too much. She was much more shocked at being verbally accosted by the Potions Master. She was not a student after all... but, if this is what he wanted to play at, so be it.

"Ah, Professor Snape, in your usual fifteenth century frock. I have never understood what exactly you see in Italian Ren."

He ignored her and continued. "This class," he gestured at Clothilde, "is a perfect example of Gryffindor at it's finest. Do you think for one moment you look impressive? 

"She wears that armor because she thinks it makes her look menacing."

"And you wear that frock because you think it makes you look _good_."

_That stung._

The class was silent. The air so still it could be cut. Snape's eyes flashed at her wordlessly. She had hit the clink in his own armor and driven in with the point of her wit.

_'Play with fire....' _Her thoughts trailed off. These words were plainly expressed on her face and Snape read it easily enough. She did not back down.

Drumming his fingers on his desk in irritation he turned from her and continued from where he had left off of the potions lesson. She settled herself into a table at the back of the room, not far from Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Ron turned to Harry in shock and whispered harshly, "I think I'm in love."

* * * * *

"No, I do not hate Professor Snape." 

"Why not? I can't believe how rude he was to you, that slimy~"

"Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes in displeasure as several Gryffindors and Clothilde headed down the hallway to the great hall for lunch later on that same day. 

"Really though, I think he hates you as much as he hates Harry. He _was_ just as horrid."

"That was pretty unusual. I've never seen him act like that toward another adult." Hermione stated plaintively.

"Well... he wasn't overly happy to see me when the Headmaster was introducing us either, but really, none of the staff was."

"Why not?"

She smiled at Ron then said a little dejectedly. "Perhaps because of my past."

Harry was now listening. Prior to this he had been attempting to pretend she wasn't with him, just some bizarre relation to Neville or someone else in Gryffindor.

"What because you were an Auror with the Ministry of Magic removed for being too ruthless?" Ron blurted really not thinking about what he'd just said. Everyone around him perked up, shocked at the magnitude of what they had just discovered.

Clothilde suddenly felt pretty uncomfortable herself. "I wasn't dismissed for being ruthless. I was dismissed due to tardiness." 

The trio were looking up at her a bit skeptical.

"That's what's on my file."

"Of course it is. Not like they're going to put _'dismissed do to inflicting horrific torture on the lot of Death Eaters we rounded up yesterday for questioning' _is it? No, not likely."

She found herself smiling. "Ron, that's a little before my time... but honestly, I was not ruthless. That's just a rumor."

"Well... if that's the case, then what _did_ you mean when you said the staff wasn't happy to meet you?"

Hermione.

"Oh, I just meant, they have heard the rumors too. And some people believe every rumor they hear without ever finding out the facts. Like some bitter old potions masters I can think of off the top of my head. And then some people never really allow that maybe you did do some things in your past that you aren't particularly fond of remembering yourself, but over the years you've tried to change."

Harry looked over at her, maybe she wasn't going to be so awful to have around. He also wondered what _things_ from her past she wasn't fond of remembering, but wasn't going to push that question right away. Maybe Ron would save him the trouble, he seemed to be on a roll.

"You know that never really crossed my mind before." Neville interjected.

"What?" Harry asked as they rounded the corner into the great hall.

"Well... why _does_ Professor Snape wear that Italian Ren, like Clothilde said? I had never even paid any attention before."

"And why doesn't he ever wear it in red?" Clothilde asked. "It would suit him well."

"Ugh... nothing would help him," Ron muttered.

As they entered the hall they were slightly mortified to find Snape was standing near the doorway talking to Professor McGonagall, and he had heard every word of the conversation from _'Well... why does Professor Snape wear that Italian Ren?'_. His face slowly cast into a frown when the lot of them passed, especially while looking at she and Ron... and then menacingly at poor Neville. Minerva pretended she hadn't heard anything that had just been said. 

The word _'doh'_ was on Clothilde's lips but she just smiled politely as they passed. In truth she needed to focus on the task she'd been set to do. She needed to have a look about the great hall while Harry and his friends had lunch, and watch from afar to see what the normal routine of Hogwarts was during this period. Not exactly exciting stuff but, she would be able to break away from the fifteen year old chatter and set herself to work not offending any professors either.

* * * * *

As they entered the hall Clothilde was struck by the grandness of the place she had taken for granted years ago. She had spent so much time living in the muggle world she supposed she forgot the enormity of the hall and the ceiling which was an illusion of the night sky. Clothilde let Harry and his friends go on in ahead of her, she allowed herself to be lost in the bustle of students entering. Moving along with the crowd she watched Harry.

The professors next entered and sat at the head table for lunch. All of the usual suspects; Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonagal, Flitwick, Pompfrey, Hooch and Snape... entering last. There were several others she didn't recognize from her days at Hogwarts. She had endured _Double Potions, History of Magic, _and _Care of Magical Creatures_ so far... only a few classes left in this day.

The bodyguard took a place in the entrance of the hall, surveying the area. Food suddenly appeared on the golden plates... it had been forever since she had seen anything quite as impressive as that~ and the roast chicken smelled fantastic. Suddenly she got the sensation she was being watched and glancing up at the head table she found Snape's eyes on her.

She walked out into the hall allowing everyone to see her as she went to Harry's table and stole a drumstick. Now she looked directly at Snape who did not meet her eyes. Clothilde appraised the room from where Harry sat. There were balconies... she had forgotten about that. Saying nothing she strode off.

She reappeared in one of the balconies at the back of the hall, there were five, across from the high table. Clothilde examined this area looking down to find Mr. Potter again and see what sort of view she had of him from there if she was a person who meant to do him harm. She also used that perch to take in the hall from a different perspective noticing the doors around the room. Later, after hours... she would have to return and figure out where all of the doors led~ plus look for any magical entrances... ah, muggle assignments were so much easier than this. She touched her throat absently and remembered it had been in the muggle world she had received that little souvenir.

Just then out the corner of her eye she saw him again~ Severus Snape, and he had been watching everything she was doing. The expression on his face had seemed without malice... merely, interest perhaps? No matter, once again he looked away when she returned his gaze.

Lunch, by then, was nearly over.

* * * * *

"Where did Clothilde go?" Ron asked as he helped himself to more pumpkin pasties. 

"Oh, she's lurking around here somewhere." Harry was not quite so anxious to find his _bodyguard_, actually he had enjoyed a lunch devoid of her presence, however, now that Ron mentioned it... _where was she?_

* * * * *

Harry began to scour the great hall for any sign of Clothilde, he hadn't been certain why she had left in the first place. Then, just as he was about the decide his search was futile and settle back into conversation with the Gryffindor table he felt Snape's eyes on him but just as abruptly he looked away.

Harry noticed Clothilde at last, she was standing in the doorway behind Professor Snape. She looked as if she was wondering if _he was going to finish those lima beans_.

Snape, on the other hand, was searching the room obviously desperate to find Clothilde.

She caught Harry's eye and smiled, then glanced at the Potion's Master as if to say '_doesn't he ever give up?'_

Snape saw Potter looking over him, grinning. He turned and saw her there, her body half in shadow, arms folded, leaning against the doorframe. She raised an eyebrow as their eyes met... finally, one moving piece on an otherwise impassive face.

He stood and spun away from his chair in one fluid motion. His black robes whirled about him as he brushed past her and out the door. 

For a fleeting moment the conversation in Dumbledore's office ran through her mind. Now, it appeared, she had made an enemy.

* * * * *

"I have never seen two people who hated each other more," Ron was saying as they departed the hall.

"Hmm... boys," Hermione uttered.


	3. Clothilde Chapter 3

"Clothilde"

Chapter 3 "Agony"

In the distance was a tall willow, it's black limbs stretched toward the sky. The school grounds were covered in a heavy blanket of snow. Hagrid's home seemed cheery from where she stood, at an icy window in Gryffindor tower. Clothilde watched the slender strand of smoke billowing from the hut... which, iced with snow, looked more like a gingerbread house. The holidays were fast approaching and this one at least promised to be somewhat festive, being at Hogwarts.

Night, was also fast approaching and that was when Harry would be quite vulnerable. She would have to figure out a schedule that allowed her sleeping time as well. Harry had a list of different classes tomorrow she would be forced to sit through those as well. Most likely she would leave him under the protection of his professors during the day so she could have a little shut-eye.

She glanced over at the trio, who were presently doing their homework around a table. Somehow she highly doubted the three were always quite so angelic.

She pondered the events of the day wearily thinking of Snape... he was never a particularly lovely person when she had gone to school there, but never had he singled her out like that to insult. It was odd territory to re-encounter an old... acquaintance, and discover him changed, or... perhaps her view of him changed due to age and time. Funny, how she used to see him, not like this... he was always inquisitive but never so blatantly rude. At least not to her. After all... he was the one who got her into the dueling club to begin with, was she _so_ changed? Or perhaps simply not memorable.... Ah well, probably for the best, she didn't really want it dredged up anyhow. 

Clothilde sat down in front of the fire really hoping her _charge_ was going to bed soon because she need some sleep herself.

* * * * * 

She slept on a sofa in the Gryffindor common room overnight, waking to the sound of children running off to breakfast. She stumbled down the hall after them bleary-eyed, and drank black coffee in the entryway, then sped off to Divinations class behind Ron and Harry.

Somehow she had not remembered Divinations to be quite so absurd. Perhaps she had been more impressionable at sixteen, or, maybe her professor had more talent and less cheese than Trelawney. Clothilde secretly suspected there was some relationship between the Divinations professor and the Blavatsky family. It was an unfortunate circumstance because she had hoped to be able to sleep through Harry's class time. Knowing Hogwarts she assumed the skill of the professors would be of such high standard she would be able to simply leave Harry safely in their care. Obviously, for Mr. Potter's first class of the day, every other day with Trelawney this would not be possible. She marked out a routine in her date-book slightly annoyed by this. In her opinion Professor Trelawney had precious little skill and therefore could not be expected to save Harry if anything serious really ever occurred. 

She sent an owl to Dumbledore letting him know what her routine with Harry was to be for the time being and without a word to anyone, including Harry Potter, she walked back to her own room.

* * * * *

Filch met her there.

There was an odd pink liquid oozing out from under the grim door to her room. It looked sort of like bubblegum.

"What's this then?" The caretaker demanded as Mrs. Norris put a tentative paw in it. It was sticky.

"Hmm... I'm not sure." Clothilde wondered what Peeves had gotten into while she was away. She knew it wasn't likely to be a good scene when she returned, luckily a _clean-up_ spell was among one of the only charms she was any good at.

Filch was still looking at her, brows furrowed as if she was holding back vital _Hogwart's dungeon _information and that by staring at her long enough she would break down and confess.

Irritated, she met his eyes raising an eyebrow and folding her arms. "Why am I stuck with this... _door_? Everyone else has a painting and I have a door that looks like... a door."

"What?"

"Really Mr. Filch, first the drains back up in my rooms," she motioned to the liquid bubblegum, "and now I discover I don't yet have a proper door. Obviously I like you so I would hate to have to speak to the Headmaster about this... however~"

"The Headmaster," he stammered out angry she would ever consider doing that. "Of course I'll get your door fixed. It'll be really by tomorrow."

She watched him stomp away in a huff. Well... she generally liked Filch just fine but now, she was covering for the much despised Peeves.

The substance under the door had vanished and she entered. It was not the disaster she expected. Peeves had probably just undone earlier damage when he heard them in the hall.

She began to move about her rooms in an almost eerie silence, which she assumed was because Peeves was grateful to her for protecting him one more time.

Of course as every poltergeist knows, existence with the living is really pointless unless one of them is paying attention to you. And at four in the morning it began.... The sound of a door opening and closing... just a bit, just enough to wake her, then heavy men's footsteps coming into her living-room. Groggy, she lay in bed suddenly afraid, _who was in her home at four AM?_ The footsteps continued to walk about the living-room, and pantry areas.... Clothilde snatched up her Athame, angry and a little concerned about just _who_ could be wandering around. She peered out the door, but saw only dim light falling into the room from odd dungeon windows. 

"Incendio," she uttered.

A fire burst into life in her hearth. It lit the room suddenly. 

She crept out the door, slowly easing around the typical Hogwart's wingback chairs, no one there... then into her pantry... nothing still. The study... carrying a candle now, the flame gave the colored bottles and books a nearly warm glow, apparently no one there either. Unless she had someone hiding in her shower... or this intruder had managed to sneak behind her to get into her bedroom to steal her favorite muggle boots it had to be~

"Peeves," she growled. "I would kill you if you weren't already dead."

There was only silence however as she strode back to bed nearly unable to get back to sleep because that had annoyed her so much... but finally, finally peaceful sleep came.

Six in the morning a sudden noise woke her. She jumped up in bed, at first she had no idea where she was... what time it was, or what had woken her up. Then she heard it again. The sound of something breaking.

Struggling with the blankets for a moment, she leapt out of bed and ran into the living-room, from there she could see the pantry, Peeves was floating in mid-air tossing plates at the wall. She sauntered to the doorway angrily. 

"Stop it."

Peeves paused for a moment and turned to look at her. Her face was dark, partly because of the dim light.... He smiled for a minute then vanished leaving her with a large pile of broken crockery to clean up.

She checked her muggle watch, six, might as well stay up. She made her way into the study, and flopped down into a leather armchair. For a moment she merely gazed at the rows of vials in front of her, glittering in the half-light, then she moved to retrieve one. _Awaken_ was etched into a card on the side. She swallowed down the entire thing as if she was drinking a shot of whiskey, then settled back into that comfy chair. Clothilde fondled her Athame absently, the iron was cool to her touch and she ran her fingers over the lettering as she woke. She began to cast, cleaning and redecorating her present home to with an American Southwestern flair. The rooms now looked as if she were living in a pueblo. 

She decided she might as well attend Harry's first class everyday just to keep her sleep schedule sane. The ex-auror bathed and dressed, drinking a few sips of tasty coffee as she headed out the door to begin her day when something caught her eye. Something odd near the adobe fireplace... a tear. A rip in the fabric of her charm. 

Rolling her eyes in exasperation she moved a rough hewn ladder and a couple pieces of large Navajo pottery in front of it. One could still make out the dank dungeon wall underneath it's sweat shone slightly in the firelight. Cursing herself for never paying attention in school she strolled off to meet Harry in the great hall.

* * * * *

"Well if there's one area we should all be good at it's Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I don't think you need too worry too much about that test."

"Are you feeling all right Hermione? That doesn't really sound like you."

"It's the truth, I think I've nearly mastered Expecto Patronum myself I spent some time studying over the summer."

Harry and Ron met each other's eyes agreeing that she was indeed _mental_.

"Wonder when Professor Lupin is coming back, I don't think I can handle another day of Snape as the Defense Against the Dark Arts substitute. Oy, I wonder if Clothilde could teach that one, do you think?" Ron started suddenly looking interested. "If nothing else she would probably give us back some of those points she lost us the other day in Potions."

"Unfortunately they don't usually allow those who have never passed their NEWTs to teach here." Clothilde's flat alto voice came from behind Ron. 

The three of them jumped slightly.

"I'm sorry about losing your house points the other day," she sat squeezing into a seat beside Harry. She glanced up at the high table, and met Dumbledore's smile... and Severus' glare. 

"You never passed your~" Hermione began but Ron shushed her with a '_maybe that was a touchy subject for her' _look.

Clothilde chose to ignore the question and continued watching the figure at the high table clad in black, "I refuse to be baited this morning." 

* * * * *

Settling behind Harry once again in the rather dreaded Potions class Clothilde took the book Ron was proffering her, he and Harry could share and she could follow along in their lesson. She presumed Ron was hoping even the bodyguard would seem completely engrossed in what Snape had to say and would be utterly incapable of taking off more Gryffindor house points. Well... it was a nice idea anyhow.

The room was dank, and gloomy and presently the quiet of what could be likened to a stillness of a cemetery was full of teenaged chatter. Slytherin and Gryffindor all talking about their current romantic problems or just what they would be doing for winter break. Hoping they were going to pass the Potions midterm. Clothilde was perusing Ron's fifth year potions textbook when she felt someone behind her and to her side~ She snapped to meet him, her hand on the hilt of her Athame.

It was Snape. He pretended not to notice what had just transpired and lifted the textbook that had just slid off her lap and onto the floor. His eyes went from the book lovingly, then to her... he offered her the book without comment, then glided down the steps to his desk. For a moment she and the others who had seen what had happened seemed shocked and terribly pleased to discover today was not going to be a repeat performance of their last Potions class. 

"Gryffindor," Snape spoke in nearly a whisper, "five points for throwing valuable potions texts to the floor."

"W...what?" Clothilde's voice was also a whisper but somehow the professor heard.

"Is there a problem Miss Corgan?"

She had told herself this was _not_ going to happen today. She slid back into the shadows assuming he would take that as an acquiesce to his points deduction and move along. 

Snape moved around the front of his desk and now stood at the base of the steps facing her. "A further five point deduction from Gryffindor Mr. Potter, for bringing that cheeky friend of yours to class again."

Clothilde rose slowly, and strode to the aisle standing on the top of the stairs, arms folded looking down at him. "You know perfectly well that I'm here at Dumbledore's request. I am not a student."

"Five more."

"Gryffindor isn't even my house and it never has been. How dare you take points away from Gryffindor simply because I'm doing my job?"

"I'm warning you," he hissed, "stop."

She was tempted to pick up Ron's book and bounce it off Snape's head. Now she had lost them a lot more points and she wasn't even a student here. This was ridiculous she was going to be forced to speak to the Headmaster... or pummel him into submission. 

"Five more points," he sighed, "for holding up class. I sincerely wonder Miss Corgan, do you _have_ a brain?"

Without flinching she began, in a hollow voice, "oh yes, several. I removed them from the skulls of annoying professors, using a small hammer and chisel at first then... slowly scooping them out with a large spoon and dropping them into jars, which I keep on the shelves of my study."

Snape raised an eyebrow, "pity that doesn't seem to have raised your IQ though has it?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking at each other in horror as this 'bout continued, little by little they were losing household points. Obviously Clothilde was easily goaded, she actually looked like she was going to kill him... or at least maim him. Severus looked smug, he was really enjoying this exchange of insults and the opportunity to dash all Gryffindor's hopes of taking the house cup this year.

"Potions was never one of my _best_ classes no... I was better at~"

"Bashing people in the head?"

She smiled at him, "no intimidating children more than half my age~ oh wait, that's you."

He took step up looking like he was about to challenge her to a duel, which... she would've welcomed.

"Come, come now Snape I'm the one proficient in _bashing_ remember? Better for you to poison my coffee or something~"

The hurling of insults went on for a long time.

* * * * *

"I thought you said you weren't going to let him bait you today." Harry said as soon as they walked out the Potions door. He seemed upset. 

Everyone was upset.

Except Slytherin who were all congratulating Harry on having a bodyguard who cared so much for the welfare of their household.

Clothilde was angry, her face was a dark mask of rage she was trying to keep composed until she could get back into her own living area and then she was going to break something. "Hmm... did I? I suppose it can only mean one thing, I wallow in the mire with the rest of the human race."

* * * * *

She arrived in her room and sat down in front of the fire for a moment glancing at the rip in the charm fabric and rubbing her eyes. _'Do days get worse than this?'_

A large owl was beating it's wings at her window. She let him in and read the note he was carrying, it was from Dumbledore, he wanted to see her immediately.

_'Apparently so.'_

* * * * *

"Licorice whip." She swept into the Headmaster's office with her usual grim flourish, and found Snape there, standing in front of Dumbledore's desk as if he was being reprimanded as well.

Their eyes met, like two children who had fought and now had become allies in front of the parental figure.

"Professor Dumbledore," she greeted flatly. "Professor _Snape_," she greeted because Dumbledore was standing there.

"_Miss Corgan_"; and he handled things in a similar manner.

The Headmaster watched this somehow managing not to roll his eyes. "Clothilde... Severus, I have asked you both here because I've had some complaints from students unable to concentrate in class because the two of you are constantly bickering. Is there truth to this?" His eyes went from one to the other, then nearly at the same time the two of them began~

"Headmaster~"

"He starts it!"

"There is no need for her to be in my class, Mr. Potter is perfectly safe~"

"My job is to protect Harry, be his shadow~"

"Shadows are silent."

"I am silent. If you would simply pretend I wasn't there class could proceed without disruption~"

"It is impossible to pretend you aren't there~"

"Why?!"

"Because... because it simply is~ You see how difficult she is Headmaster?"

Professor Dumbledore looked from Severus to Clothilde, his stern face betrayed by the twinkle of understanding in his eyes.

"I see..." he said scratching his head through his conical hat. "Well Clothilde you were asked here to guard Harry Potter and it is certainly up to you to do this any way you see fit, however, according to the daily itinerary you sent to me yesterday it says the only class you plan to attend regularly is Divinations, and nothing about attending Professor Snape's class. Is there a reason you decided to attend today?"

She decided to lie. "Because... Professor Snape is brilliant."

Severus looked at her suddenly.

She remained standing rigidly, her legs set slightly apart and hands behind her back like a soldier at ease. "I haven't had a potions class in years and it helps refresh my memory." _Well that much was true_. "With someone as specialized as Severus teaching I thought it wouldn't hurt to sit in while I'm watching Harry, in truth." Although at first she figured she would lie to fall into Snape's good graces, as she was explaining herself to everyone else the clarity of the situation began to actually tumble out. She did want to attend his class. 

Dumbledore considered what she had said and faced Snape who was actually looking at her somewhat in a state of shock. "Seems reasonable, but of course if Professor Snape is having problems with class disruptions due to you being there perhaps~"

"Uh, no...." Severus turned to meet her eyes, which were as usual cold and unfeeling orbs of gray... hmm, they were green closer to the pupil... and she looked at him sternly with them... the cold gray orbs. "I have apparently... misjudged you."

It seemed to pain him to make this statement.

"You... may... continue to attend my class with Mr. Potter."

She smiled. She couldn't help herself... if she wasn't very much mistaken that was an apology... in a very silky voice. His eyes still rested on her face. They seemed to glitter at times like faceted gems, she had never seen anything like that before.

"Well"; Dumbledore's voice startled her. "I hope you will accept that offer Clothilde, it was a very eloquent one I think."

"Uhh... yes, yes it was very well said."

Snape tilted his head to one side once more clearly astonished at how complimentary she was being to him.

Professor Dumbledore smiled knowingly and said, "well good then, do you accept? No more arguments in front of the students, no more points deducted for Clothilde's behavior... or do I need to read your minds?"

Clothilde raised an eyebrow, "haven't you already?"

He winked at her. "I see that this is nearly settled, I'll leave it to the two of you to sort out the details."

She and Severus remained in silence staring at the door Albus had just exited for a long while before she turned to look stiffly at him.

"Coffee?" He quipped.

"I take mine with two spoons of sugar and a vial of absinthe."

"Lead the way."


	4. Clothilde Chapter 4

"Clothilde"

Chapter 4 "Insinuations"

The office he kept off the potions room, was a bit chilly with just a porthole of a window smudged with smoke to let in a stream of light. This sunlight fell just between Clothilde, and the Potions Master. The room held a large dark wood desk, on which sat presumably a stack of papers ready to be graded, two unlit, half melted candles, a white quill and a book of some sort. The walls were packed full with cases that held both spellbooks and ingredients in vials, and jars. It did smell fantastic in there, the bodyguard noted. Like a cabinet of spices. Some of the vials were clear but many were colorful and caught in the sliver of light that made them glow with a seeming warmth. 

Professor Snape had just cast a fire into the hearth, and was pouring olive oil into an antique roman lamp, a tendril of black hair fell into his eye and he brushed it away impatiently. 

It had been a long time since she had been in the same room with him... not hurling sarcastic snipes... it felt nice. 

"I assure you I did not tamper with your coffee Miss Corgan."

She had been holding the cup for a long time without even tasting it. 

Snape faced her now that the lamp was lit. "It is perfectly safe."

Clothilde's face warmed and she sipped it. "I never suspected you would've tampered with it professor, thank you."

He motioned for her to sit the chair at his desk and pulled a chair from his classroom to sit in himself.

They sat in silence for several uncomfortable moments. Finally Clothilde spoke, "shall we agree to a truce and call it a day?"

Snape's eyes met hers. "So, you aren't a part of Gryffindor? Pray, what household did you belong to when you were here last?"

Her lip curled slightly, "you know, I'd rather you didn't call me _Miss Corgan_, Clothilde is fine, or ma'am."

He raised an eyebrow. "Clothilde then. You wish to brush up on potions for your stay here?"

She had forgotten how graceful his movements could be. His face was so impassive, with the ever-present look of superiority which seemed to be etched into it... and yet, the subtle sadness she had always noticed. Just a hint. In the way he reached for his cup of tea, the slight flicker of sorrow in his eyes as if a memory was passing over him. His fine black hair falling into his face.... Finally she was able to talk to him, all this stupid fighting, this battle of sarcasms to finally see him like this again. Only, she wasn't his student this time. 

Only... she wasn't seventeen anymore. The last time she had seen him she had never killed anyone before. She had only aimed insults at everyone around her, flung angry thoughts into the sea of students faces. Scared the others with the possibly of who she could be... and then she became something very scary indeed. 

Clothilde's eyes refocused, Severus was looking at her, head tilted slightly to one side. She realized she'd been daydreaming. Rather than feel foolish, she smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, I was just remembering my last time in here."

"Oh?" True interest.

"Yes. I remember the exams were over, I had failed... and I was going home. I came back in here to take a last look before I went back to the Muggle world." She said in a melancholy voice.

"How is it you managed to become an Auror if you failed?"

She sipped her coffee.

"Yes it will be good to brush up on potions... I never was terribly good at them, good at melting the cauldrons, I must've gone through, I don't even know how many I went through. I did used to take extensive notes in class though. I'm surprised you don't remember."

He was annoyed he didn't remember. "I was your Potions Master?"

"Of course." She met his eyes, there was such an intensity there she nearly looked away, instead she felt a warmth run through her body. She hadn't felt anything like that in ages. A startled look crossed her face. "I think I came in here for that one last look a long time ago," she began, "because I knew I would miss the calmness it usually brought me. The way the dungeons feel so cool, so quiet. 

"My time here was anything but... quiet. With Voldemort in power and then even afterward, I was not a very happy teenager." She concluded seriously.

He was staring at her.

"And you became an Auror."

"Hmm... those were confusing times."

There was something incredibly strong and sad about her. Stoic. He watched her swallowing down the last of the coffee, her long hair was like an unruly mane over her armor. Her hands were so slender and delicate... somehow she seemed unlikely in her battered pieces. How many duels had she had? The rumors he had wondered on surely must have a glimmer of truth to them, there was something cold and dead about her. Certainly she tried to hide it, at least in front of Harry he had noticed, she seemed warm and loving with him... but there was something beyond that. Sorrow, regret... was it so easily read? Or was he simply good at reading it? Possibly. He wondered if anyone had ever read the regret he had for his own crimes... the self-loathing, though he hid it very well from his students he was certain.

"Yes... yes, they were," he said through steepled hands.

She raised an eyebrow and flashed some teeth this time when she smiled, she couldn't help it, this was a funny little parlay. She didn't suppose this would be the chat Dumbledore suggested they have. The bodyguard decided to bring it down a notch. 

"You really would look nice in red you know, with your hair and eyes, it would very much suit you."

That woke him from whatever he'd been thinking. 

"My father helped me to become an Auror, it was the only decent thing he _ever_ did for me, since you asked." She stood before she could be quizzed further. "I really must get my rest, Harry needs someone to protect him at night, so I need to sleep odd hours I'm afraid."

Snape also rose. 

"I'm glad we spoke." Her voice was once more, strong, alto... flat. No hint of sarcasm in it. 

"Yes, yes... it was... nice," he hissed half unsure of what he was saying. There was something awfully trying, yet intriguing about her. And for some reason he felt himself drawn to look into her eyes, every time he did that intensity returned and then he forced himself to pull away, and tried to think of grading his 3rd years papers.... _He would look good in red? _She must've been mocking him, but somehow it didn't sound it. 

_Nice?_ She was replaying that in her head, did he mean that? 

They faced each other for a moment. 

Clothilde smiled at him then strode out the door. _Nice?_

* * * * *

Severus sat back down at his desk when she had gone, pondering the things she had said, she wasn't part of Gryffindor when she had gone to school there. She had failed her finals. Her father helped her to become an Auror. She was an unhappy teenager... she made extensive notes in her potions class, and he had been her professor.... Extensive notes... 

He leaned on his fist for a moment. _Could it be?_ He opened his desk drawer and brought forth one of the _most_ extensive notebooks he had ever confiscated from a student in his class. Confiscated because it was a list of possible mixes that could be used as poison or explosives. It was very detailed... how each explosion had gone off. Just what mixtures created what explosions. The damage done and what type of damage had been done. Who had been injured in each blast and what healing had been used to mend these wounds. It detailed her own work in setting some of the explosions off by slipping different ingredients into other peoples cauldrons, and at what point what needed to be added to gain the desired effect. Further how each poison would look and smell. How each could be used, if they could be hidden in drinks, or what particular foods would cover their odor if there was one. What kind of effects these poisons would have... if they had been tested on fellow students. 

Snape stared down at the black book in a mix of horror and wondering. He couldn't help but feel somewhat to blame for what was put in the notes, after all he did come right out and tell his classes what the terrible effects some of these components would have, as well as the more typical uses. Was this she? Is this what had become of her? He had wondered for some time what would become of her after her father had drifted out of society for a time. He needed another opportunity to talk to her... if this was indeed his old pupil.... Was that it? Was that why he wanted to see her again? 

He put the notebook away and chided himself for thinking there could be anything more to him wanting to see her than simply to find out who she was. After all... she was probably just toying with him, she seemed more Gryffindor than anything else.

"I would rather chew glass than wear... _red_," he spat.

* * * * *

Hermione burst into the Gryffindor common room throwing her books into a cushy chair. She glanced up at the large "points" clock and suddenly realized they were back to where they had been before Harry's new bodyguard had arrived. 

There was movement in the window.

She turned to her left and saw Clothilde. She was nearly a silhouette against the setting sun which burned her orange painting her against the sky. She was smiled at Hermione compassionately.

"The points are back to normal." The younger of the two spoke.

"Hmm... I noticed that too."

Hermione climbed into the window-seat opposite where Clothilde was standing. "Did you speak to Professor Snape?"

"Did you arrange that?" 

"Erm..." she looked at her shoes for a moment. "Well, I might've had something to do with that. But, that was really unfair and we were starting to fall behind in class."

Clothilde's eyes were warm with amusement, "well, I certainly think you did the right thing. And yes, I spoke with the professor."

In the light the pentacles on her tabard glittered even more than usual. She stood there, in the glimmer of the falling night, her cool eyes staring out at the snow, hair sweeping her armor, sword at her side.

"You know you really look like a Valkyrie."

She turned. "A Valkyrie? Chooser of the slain?" Clothilde thought about it for a moment, for some reason her thoughts drifted to Professor Snape. She smiled gently at Hermione, "you must have lived some in the Muggle world?"

"Yes, neither of my parents are magical."

"Really?" Clothilde now sat as Harry and Ron came into the tower at last. She met Harry's eyes for a moment then he noticed the clock as well, she turned her attention back to Hermione. "This is always harder when one comes from the non-magical world I think, although it does seem much grander."

"Yes exactly. Did you live in the Muggle world?" She ventured.

"You know my rumors don't you?"

She looked over at Ron. "Well, Ron mentioned something."

"Yes, I grew up non-magical until I was eleven and the Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived. My mother had been dreading it I think."

"It was a complete surprise to my parents, although it _did_ explain why odd things kept happening around me as a child."

"Hmm... my mother had me believe we had ghosts."

"What? How cruel!" Hermione half laughed and Clothilde grinned at her.

Harry caught her eye now. "The points?~"

"I had a chat with The Potions Master."

"What?" Harry said a picture of her casting Crucio on Snape forming in his mind.

She decided to let him believe whatever it was he was thinking. "Yes, so there will be no more problems while I'm in class with you." Then she looked at Hermione seriously, "and no reason not to pay attention in class of course."

That sounded suspiciously like Snape. Suddenly the image of her using her _ruthless tactics_ on Snape didn't seem quite as likely. 

"You're still going to Potions with me? But... why?" Harry said softly, "you don't suspect Professor Snape...."

She smirked. "You're safe with me Harry." 

There was something cold and flat... and true in that statement that made him back off. Although he wondered what they talked about. Did one really sit down with Snape over cookies and milk and have a polite conversation? Somehow picturing her with the point of her gladius inches from his over-large nose threatening him with giving Gryffindor _back_ their house points seemed more likely. And more interesting.

"Next time do you think you could get Snape to give us a few extra points?" Said Ron stuffing sweets from the kitchen into his mouth. Harry wondered if his best friend was reading his mind for a moment.

She looked over at Ron and winked. "And what method of torture would you prefer I used on your favorite professor?"

He grinned, "I'll have to get back to you on that one."

* * * * *

Hours later Clothilde returned back to her own room after dropping Harry off at his second class of the day. She was startled to discover there was now a painting... it looked slightly out of place, the single frame on the empty, black, sweating wall. She recognized it, it was Abbey in the Oak Forest by Friedrich. Her mouth twisted into a sneer. That was Filch's little way of getting her back she supposed. Making some statement about her slightly unpleasant history by giving her a painting of a graveyard for a door. 

"Ha... ha." She thought flatly.

Once inside her eyes went immediately to the tear in her charm, and with a wave of her hand she disenchanted her living area. The Navajo decor disappeared. 

"Enough with these silly _charms_," she spat, and instead drew out her gladius and began to transfigure each and every item in the rooms to give the look of something ancient, 10th century approximately. She was trying to give an appearance of something more... Norse. Quietly thanking Hermione for that idea.

Peeves was completely silent. She wondered if he was even in there, or if he had given up and decided to harass Filch after all.

She concluded by attempting wards on her doors. Hers were _okay_, a bit feeble, but they would do. Other than that the dungeon apartment looked pretty good she thought. The furnishings were heavy, covered with furs. It resembled, as closely as she could, something that would conjure up the notion of "Beowulf", although if she remembered correctly that was much earlier than 10th century. 

"All Valkyries live like this," she mumbled as she slid into a large medieval chair exhaustedly. Then she gave a bit of a half laugh, something a that sounded bitter. 

"Incendio." A fire flashed to life suddenly, with a loud explosion that she loved. Clothilde stared into the flames and wondered what it would be like to burn in them. She wondered how Albus could've ever let her return, she wondered why he was so willing to trust her... when, at times she found it difficult to trust herself. And, she thought of Professor Snape... she couldn't for the life of her fathom why she had hit him with so many hints. What did she gain from him knowing her again? He would only loathe and despise her when he saw her for who she was. Unless... unless, some of it remained hidden. She would've conjured up a shot-glass and a bottle of whiskey, but she wasn't any good at conjuring... so she simply rose and got it herself like a Muggle. 

The Muggle world was so much easier to live in. There, no one knew her, and she had a slight edge over the others. Here, everyone knew and disliked her, or feared her... and she was a bit of a feeble witch comparatively speaking. Unless she was doing harm. Did the Headmaster know what he was doing when he asked her to come back? 

Clothilde swallowed down the alcohol with one experienced gulp, it burned her mouth and throat... then she poured herself another. 

  



	5. Clothilde Chapter 5

"Clothilde"

Chapter 5 "Misplaced Childhood"

__

I don't need your redemption

I don't need you to deceive me

and I don't need your forgiveness

I only want you to believe me

do you see me here

I'm standing naked

do you see me here I'm on my knees

now all my life I've been wandering

looking for teachers with the keys

nothing found still searching 

for sound...

underground~

'Underground'

The Tea Party

Clothilde followed Harry into the potions room, and found her seat behind his. The dark, mustiness of the room brought her back to her own school days. How much money she had spent in Hogsmeade buying new cauldrons. She tried not to destroy them too often or Snape would surely have known she was destroying them on purpose.

The Potions Master glided round his desk and faced the class, his body was one long billowing black robe, gesturing to a stack of exams as he lectured the class on cheating, and how they would be using anti-cheating quills. Exhausted, the bodyguard sat back and watched his graceful form, pale white... he still smelled of spice. She noticed that during the conversation they had had the other day. It was nice. 

As the class put all of their heads down at the same time to begin the test, she and Severus met eyes. She had been thinking of the past... and he was watching her with those onyx eyes as if he was trying to determine something. Her generally, strong... warm smile twisted into something a bit more sinister, and her lip curled into an almost evil little smirk, then fell back tiredly into her usual calm expression. He raised an eyebrow in question. Well... at least they weren't fighting this class period. His long black hair swung round and fell into his face as he spun on heel and began to walk the aisles of his pupils, making it even more difficult for them to concentrate on the task at hand. Clothilde fell back into her revelry, breaking from memory only once or twice when he looked directly at her.

When she started her sixth year at Hogwarts Voldemort was still a powerful enemy with quite a following of Death Eaters. People had stopped using his real name because they were terrified he would simply appear. Being half-Muggle was dangerous, being a half-Muggle in Slytherin was nearly a death sentence since a lot of the household were pureblood and believed in Voldemort's ideals. Clothilde was not Clothilde in those days, back then at sixteen she was Charlotte, and she was Slytherin to the bone. Ambitious... determined to succeed, determined to show everyone she wasn't less then them... determined to show her father, a pureblood who believed in Voldemort's ideals she was good enough. Pointless goal really, because he was deaf to her. He would rather not acknowledge she even existed. She was the product of an affair with a Muggle, that's all... when she had been sent a letter of acceptance from Hogwarts he had decided to contact her, make himself known to her, and give her his last name. He remained in touch, but barely. Charlotte was a frightening girl, and maybe that's why he bothered. She had very little control over her abilities, and often the faculty was uncertain if she or Peeves was responsible for some of the crazy things that happened there.

She had almost no control over her anger, which flared up passionately whenever she was tormented by the rest of Slytherin house. Depressed and angry she stopped putting any effort into her own appearance, she didn't bathe often enough, and she wore the same clothes on and on until the house elves stole them from her bedside at night to wash them. She just didn't care anymore, and put a great deal of effort into ruining everyone else's life, if it was simple sarcasm or testing out some unknown substance in someone else's cauldron or mashed potatoes... it didn't really matter to her. Nothing mattered, until... until he came... the new head of her house. A new victim for her to torment, the way she was tormented. 

No one had forewarned young Professor Snape what the present Slytherin situation looked like. To him Hogwarts was a relief, an exile from Voldemort's cold hand. He knew he had to keep them from falling into following the path so many Slytherin had taken before them. They were all looking for someone to guide them and the task had fallen on him, one time Death Eater. He had to balance spying for Dumbledore with teaching and babysitting all those ambitious kids.... Kids who were not really all that much younger than he was. 

"This is the new head of your house," Dumbledore had arrived in Slytherin's main room one day, in the middle of the year. The Headmaster had been filling in as the head of Slytherin for about a year since their own beloved leader had run off to join You-Know-Who. What a screwed up situation. "This is Professor Snape, an excellent Potions Master... and a great example of what a Slytherin graduate can become." Snape flinched, but Albus continued, "I trust you will show him the same courtesy you have shown me." 

The crowd of little Slytherins remained huddled around the sofa looking up at them. Charlotte had been laying on her back staring at the ceiling as if she was too bored to care, but curiosity finally got the better of her and she lifted her head and looked over at the new professor. 

He was tall, and gaunt wearing black, black and black... which she liked. The long row of buttons that ran the length of his frock, and the buttons that held his sleeves and leggings so snug it was nearly a crime. He looked like a rock star she thought. He wasn't very handsome though, but neither was she and what did that matter anyhow? In school she had found those really handsome to be really unpleasant otherwise... personality was the important thing. The paleness of his face was such a stark contrast to his long jet black hair, and eyes... that was so striking. She thought he might actually look decent in red, although the black he wore suited him well, and she fancied black herself. She was actually wearing black at that moment, looking rather crumpled, chewing gum and holding her face in her hand as she appraised him.

Dumbledore's eyes met hers.

She smiled at him... but it was a false smile.

Of course he knew this, he was Dumbledore after all.

She looked at Snape again, following his expression... he seemed cold, but hopeful. She was thinking he might be fun to toy with, certainly he was a professor he could squash her rather easily however, she was a student.... Teachers had the disadvantage of having to deal with the unruly student every once in a while without squashing him or her. 

He was being pressed now by the rest of her class, but somehow he noticed her hanging back, laying on the sofa, chewing her gum noisily, staring at him with wide untamable eyes. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. 

He raised an eyebrow signaling to her he was dangerous.

Now she was really interested. She slid off the sofa and bounded away, her back to him.

"Miss Malfoy," Dumbledore called.

She turned around; defiant.

"Aren't you going to meet Professor Snape?"

Charlotte met Snape's eyes again, "I need to study for my _potions class_."

"That's for sure." She heard someone say as she slipped away.

* * * * *

Days passed like that, she spent her time destroying cauldrons in a manner that nearly defied reality... Snape of course, began to suspect she was doing it on purpose but wasn't really certain what that purpose was. Probably partly because he had a lot of other more pressing things on his mind back then, and because he was young. She spent a lot of time doing detention. She spent a lot of detention watching the professor wondering about him. She hadn't really ever talked to him, not in all the time he had spent as head of the house, which had been months, unlike the rest of Slytherin all cozying up to him for a better grade in Potions. She avoided him as much as possible. He once asked her about her brother, she spat out something about his parentage that nearly got her another detention, but Snape probably agreed with her about Lucius more than she realized. He probably identified with her a lot more than she realized too... but she was sixteen at the time and it never really occurred to her. He was big and imposing, and her parental figure at Hogwarts, she didn't imagine him as a student... of only a few years ago... and she didn't want to. She needed some order in her life, even if she was defying it at every opportunity. 

__

"You are failing Potions," he said pulling her aside one day in the hall. "Doesn't this concern you?"

"No." She lied. Of course it did... as much as she hated everyone in her household she really couldn't imagine not returning to Hogwarts for her final year. What would she do if she failed? Go to public Muggle school?

Severus seemed to sense this of course, he was so sharp sometimes she was worried he would actually find out what she _was_ doing in his class. 

She couldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm only going to offer this option to you once Miss Malfoy, and only because you are a Slytherin... I will tutor you a half hour after class until the final exam if you don't want to fail." He sounded tried by her.

She sighed, "yeah... yeah okay." Then she looked up at him quickly because she realized that sounded incredibly weak and she did actually need his help, "uh, I mean... thank you professor."

He fixed her with a look, pursed his lips and moved from her in a whirl of billowing robes.

* * * * *

Snape began collecting exams and ordering the children into their lab groups so he could proceed with the rest of their midterm.

Clothilde had been daydreaming for half the class already. She watched the professor as he swooped down on the trio and was reading Harry's test to himself with a little smile on his face. Probably not a good sign. Harry was looking at him, a slightly horrified expression on his face. But then Snape turned to acknowledge Clothilde, a seat behind him... she had been staring, but she didn't look away as he confirmed the eyes he'd felt on his back.

She smiled, warmly... her eyebrow arched playfully. 

He seemed almost offended... then unsure if he was reading her correctly.

The class had gotten themselves reassembled and he broke from the... situation.

* * * * *

Two of the Slytherin seventh year girls had hauled Charlotte into the girls shower one winter day, by the hair, and thrown her in clothes and all. She managed to break from their grasp but only after being half drowned. Charlotte had emerged swinging. The girls laughed at her, waving their wands at her threatening her with various spells. She dodged _jelly legs_ and _furnunculus_. In her rage she ripped a medicine cabinet off a wall and threw it at them. It crashed in a violent explosion in the hallway outside the bathroom. 

The girls watched it fly past them, their laughter caught in their throats... then as they looked back at Charlotte, dripping wet and screaming at them they burst into savage Slytherin laughter again. 

"Accio wand!!" 

Her wand came flying down the hall... but someone else caught it.

"The three of you, out here now."

It was The Potions Master, his voice hissing and dangerous... he was standing in the wreckage of a medicine cabinet, he'd been passing that way and was nearly hit when it went flying out the door. 

"Violet Ives, Cassandra Walters... detention starting _right now_. Go see Mr. Filch, he will supply you with buckets and scrub-brushes, then report to the potions room where you'll be scrubbing the floor.... Oh, and Violet, make certain it sparkles when you're done, I see you're interested in that line of work."

The seventh years hurried away slightly downtrodden but still managed to giggle a little at how irate Charlotte had looked after a shower.

"Miss Malfoy," he took her roughly by the arm, lifting her and pushing her down the hallway, "come with me." Charlotte flipped her long soaked hair out of her face.

He sighed to himself, and pulled his wand from a sleeve. "Exaresco."

She felt her clothes and hair go dry again, and glanced up at Snape stunned he had bothered with her injured ego. He didn't look at her.

They passed two older professors as they were hurrying along up the passageways, Professor Snape nodded to them but neither of them returned the friendly gesture, simply looked away as if he was something vile they did not want to see. Charlotte wondered about that, looking over at the head of Slytherin, he seemed to be pretending he hadn't noticed, although not doing the best of jobs covering his feelings, which had been slightly bruised by that. Why didn't they like him? Was it simply because Slytherin wasn't all that popular at Hogwarts?... Especially since Voldemort had come out of that house. Their last head had run off to follow Voldemort, was that it? They were afraid Snape would do the same or...? She was confused.

"Why didn't they speak to you?" She finally had to ask, although she knew he probably wasn't going to supply her with an answer. 

He didn't.

She vowed someday she was going to vex him by being just as aloof.

Finally, the journey was over and they arrived in an empty, ancient hall that seemed to have fallen into some disrepair over the years. The professor shoved her into the room. She nearly fell over one of the upturned tables.

Charlotte turned to look back at him open-mouthed. 

"Do you know how to duel?"

"Uhh... no." Her voice cracked a little, worried where this might be going.

"So you're angry Miss Malfoy," he tossed her, her wand, which she caught uneasily. "You need to focus it, or you'll be ridiculed all your life." He passed her, "and you needn't be, you have ability, it is simply unfocused. How you've gotten through six years with such unfocused talent I have no idea, probably due to all the upheaval in your household the past few years. Regardless you are in Slytherin and I want you to start acting it. Prove yourself to me."

He had walked several steps from her, then spun around to face her, his expression was dark, "now, you're going to learn how to duel properly."

"Uhh..."

"I am no novice, I will train you properly." He was standing before her, imposing, in his black robes, twenty paces from her in some empty, dusty old room offering her power.... The training to help her prove herself to her father, to those lousy Slytherin kids. He was taking the time to bother with her, and no one ever had before. 

She tilted her head to one side. Maybe it was the setting, maybe it was the idea of what she could do with this power, maybe it was the emotional turmoil she had just been subjected to... or maybe it was because she was sixteen, but at that moment Professor Snape was about the most sexy, powerful, wonderful person she had ever laid eyes on. 

He arched an eyebrow. "Miss Malfoy?"

"Why are you bothering with me?" Her voice was suddenly different, stronger, more the woman she was going to become, than the girl standing before him.

His black eyes met hers. "Stand like this. With your wand just so, ever so slightly arched above your head... or perhaps at your side, whatever is most comfortable for you."

* * * * *

"Professor Snape, if I am failing Arithmancy." She said one day while taking a break from her training, "what if I fail my NEWTs, will you hate me for that?"

He turned to her, they were sitting on the edge of a stage in the hall they had been using to duel in. "You won't fail." He said dismissing her fears as if they were nothing of importance.

"I might."

"Well then, perhaps you'll take over Filch's position here." 

"What?!"

He jumped down, smiling slightly.

"Are you teasing me?" She had a hard time saying it, let alone fathoming it.

"Now then, Miss Malfoy, if you don't care to join me I have plenty of papers to grade~"

She leapt from the stage.

"We should set up some matches for you."

"What?"

"You certainly didn't think you were the only duelist here at Hogwarts did you? There is a club. When I am finished with you, you will join it." His voice was commanding, "and as the _only_ Slytherin in it, I expect you to be the best."

She moved into her dueling stance, which was a slightly different style than most witches used, and hissed, "oh, I will be."

Try as he might Severus couldn't suppress a smile.

* * * * *

Clothilde watched in horror as Neville's cauldron seemed to weaken and sag at the bottom, she fought the urge to help him, and push him away from the danger that might be leaking from it. 

Snape glanced up at her in time to see her panicked expression as she stared at Mr. Longbottom, his eyes shot in the boy's direction. He stood and moved toward Neville in one flowing motion. "What have you done here Mr. Longbottom?!" He shoved Neville to one side as the cauldron collapsed onto the floor in one fiery moment. 

The bodyguard considered mentioning to Neville what an incredible talent he possessed for creating explosives... or even watching to see what exactly he was doing wrong with them, then suppressed that idea. An idea she would've followed up on in her teenaged years. She watched Severus handling the situation with curiosity, he really did care about the students, she knew firsthand... although perhaps the one person that did not apply to was Harry, the one person she was glued to. She tilted her head to one side, listening to his deep, hissing voice.... He had Neville dealing with the problem, and now he felt her watching him.

* * * * *

"Expelliarmus!!"

Both Charlotte and her Gryffindor opponent Jeffery Spinnet called out the same spell, and both were thrown through the air and fell several feet from where they had been standing, in the great hall for their impromptu match. First match she had since joining the team in September of her seventh year at Hogwarts. 

Snape lifted her to her feet roughly and seeing she was fine, shoved her back into the fray. 

"Locomotor mortis!" She cried before he could get a word out.

Jeffery fell to the floor still grasping his wand, feeling foolish he hit her with

__

furnunculus, and she was covered in boils.

She clasped her face in pain.

Snape was on his feet calling for the referee but Charlotte didn't hear him, "Incendio!!"

"No, Charlotte~"

Jeffery's clothes caught fire.

A moment later several professors rushed to Mr. Spinnet's aid. McGonagall turned to Charlotte and Snape as he pulled the wand from her hand.

"That girl is dangerous."

Professor Snape rounded on her, "what Mr. Spinnet cast was just as unchivalrous."

Minerva had to agree, but she shot Charlotte a look of warning before she went to see how Jeffery was doing.

For some stupid reason she was no good at healing spells. She hoped Snape was going to take pity on her and heal her face.

He knelt down beside her. "You are better than him."

Her mouth curved into her twisted little smile, suddenly she felt no more pain.

* * * * *

"I've heard they snap your wand if you fail out of Hogwarts."

He eyed her from his desk. "You're here for detention Miss Malfoy, study your Potions lesson."

"Is it true?"

"That lesson is on _healing potions_ if I remember correctly."

She smiled. The room was so silent, so calm... it smelled of the cauldron she had destroyed earlier on that day, which was pretty bad. They were both enduring the acrid stink of it. She was listening to the sound of his quill on the paper and examining her own personal journal, not actually doing her homework. Charlotte thought on how Jeffery Spinnet had looked earlier that day after he drank his pumpkin juice... _now, how exactly to classify that one, hmm.... He drank it right down, so obviously no odor was present._ She scribbled this down in her notes. _He was rushed to the hospital wing holding his stomach._ _Slight green tinge to his pallor~_

Professor Snape suddenly had her journal. 

She made a feeble, horrified leap for it. He turned away from her angrily. 

"What _is_ this Miss Malfoy?!"

"It's not mine." She lied trying once more to get it from him. Out of her chair this time.

He was positively indignant by now. "Sit down." Satisfied she was now at her desk he opened to a page and began to read to himself. 

She watched as the professor seemed to actually get paler. '_He'll never want to help me again_,_ he'll never believe in me again',_ she thought helplessly. "Professor Snape...."

"Charlotte Malfoy's Book of Poisons," he uttered reading the cover. His eyes widened and he looked at her incredulously. "How could you do this?"

"Please Professor...."

"You have betrayed my trust." He said confiscating the book and locking it in his desk drawer.

"Please forgive me," she said quite pitifully now, like a girl whose only hope had just exited her life.

Snape sat down. There was a dagger in his back and he could feel it. He had spent months helping this girl, training her to duel, hoping to keep her from failing and all that time she had spent her time in _his_ class taking notes on how to poison people. Suddenly everything fell into place, the long list of cauldrons which had become formless blobs in his class. These had been nothing but experiments for her to learn from, how to best use explosives. Then it occurred to him, she wasn't fond of him at all, she was just using him.

When he next turned to look at her, he met her eyes with bitter resentment. Hurt. 

"No, it's not like that," she began, "I know what you're thinking... but I never, I never was trying to get on your good side to... to _use_ you, I swear it. I swear I didn't." 

He had been a friend and mentor to her, didn't he realize that? But... she couldn't say it, it felt too foolish to say. Charlotte just couldn't open herself up that much. Her wall was only down for him... and now he was closing her out of his... she would have to do the same or be crushed as it fell down on her.

"Detention is over."

"Professor Snape~"

"Get out."

* * * * *

"Thank heavens _that's_ over." Ron's voice brought her back to the present. 

She climbed out of her chair following Harry out the door. 

"I didn't like the look on Snape's face when he saw my written exam," Harry said.

"Oh, you did fine Harry," Hermione said as she raced past them, "have to run to Arithmancy, see you both at lunch, bye Clothilde." 

They smiled at each other.

"Have you asked Hermione yet?" Harry asked Ron quietly so his bodyguard wouldn't hear too much, he knew she and Hermione were friends these days. 

Ron rolled his eyes, "no... are you going?"

"I think so."

"Who did you ask?"

"No one yet."

"You either," he laughed. "The Yule Ball is only a few days away now you realize?"

"Look who's talking."

They arrived at Muggle Studies, and Clothilde bid them farewell for the day, she went to her room to sleep a few hours.

  



	6. Clothilde Chapter 6

"Clothilde"

Chapter 6 _"Forget..."_

"So, I hear you're going to the Ball with Ron?" Clothilde smiled at Hermione. 

She shot a forlorn glance at Harry, "yes."

The guard pretended she hadn't seen anything as Harry looked back wondering what they were talking about. As usual the two of them were huddled up together in the Gryffindor main room, at the window-seats.

Hermione's eyes went to the gladius at her side, "I've wanted to ask you something, but...."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ask."

"Did you fail out of Hogwarts?"

"Ah... you didn't tell me it was in such poor taste," she teased. 

"OhImsorry... it is in poor taste~"

"Yes, I did." She looked down at her blade, "this... gave me away did it? You're very perceptive."

Hermione chewed her lip, "I'm sorry."

"No big deal."

"So, they snapped your wand then?"

"Hmm... they do that sort of thing."

"Then... are you really supposed to do magic? I, I mean, Hagrid...."

Clothilde was shocked and impressed how clever and also how tactlessly bold she was. This probably showed on her face because Hermione backed down slightly. She pulled her sword. 

"This is an Athame, have you ever tried one?" 

Hermione looked at the short sword being proffered to her.

"I've only seen them in books." She lingered, looking at the bone handle and brass detail... then her eyes fell on the letters engraved in the blade. "IRA, what does that stand for?"

"It's the my sword's name."

Hermione screwed up her face to look at Harry's bodyguard, "you're sword's name is _Ira_?"

She laughed a bit as she sheathed it. "It's Latin... like everything else around here."

"So... the Ministry of Magic doesn't mind you practicing even though you failed your classes here?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them." She looked at the girl seriously, lingering long enough for her to know Clothilde wanted this to stay between them.

For a moment Hermione wondered if she knew Sirius... there was something similarly foreboding about them both. Actually... she was kind've old, _could she had been in school with Sirius? That would mean Harry's father as well... and Snape. _The gears in her clever witch's mind began to move, and she looked away and to the floor... _ah what a lovely shade of maroon_, to disguise it.

* * * * *

Clothilde moved to the hearth where a grand fire was burning merrily, Christmas Day tomorrow and the Yule Ball to deal with. Harry was going with Ginny Weasley apparently. He had told her in confidence that he didn't really know who to ask, and Ginny seemed like the best choice since she really wanted to go and she was also in Gryffindor. Clothilde thought of Hermione pining away in constant silence. She had felt that way at one point in her life as well, so she knew the sorrow of it. She supposed Hermione was a little more practical that she had been when she was a teenager though... her passion tended to get the better of her. It had that Christmas of her seventh year.... She rubbed the bridge of her nose in horror as she remembered....

* * * * *

"Professor Snape?" Her voice had come hissing and awful, like there was some other being inside her body with her. She crept into his office, she knew she'd find him working on paperwork there.

He was slumped over his desk, a teacup turned over and askew. 

She neared him now, "Professor?"

He moaned a little. 

"Hmm yes, that probably wasn't the nicest mix was it?" She tutted as she moved into his storage room looking for some of his slightly more dangerous potions. They had wards on them. _Damn_. 

She strolled back into his office, thinking wistfully that this was how she was spending Christmas... this was her Yule Ball. She plopped down beside Snape. 

"Professor."

He didn't move.

"Professor, wake up." She shoved him.

"I... I'm certainly not asleep _Miss Malfoy_." His voice lost in his folded arms.

"Ohh, well good," she pushed him and he slid out of his chair completely like a rag-doll.

A muffled groan escaped him as his head hit the floor. 

"Now then, you're going to take down those wards."

He muttered something undistinguishable.

"You can't fight it old... _friend_, I laced your tea with _Suggestion_, and I threw a _Weakness _potion in there as well, which is why you're having some problems... maneuvering, and talking I presume. Well, this is unfortunate, however we do need to get you in there," she said as she dragged him across the floor of his office by one arm. "Now then _Severus_, take down the wards on that cabinet."

The _Suggestion_ potion working on his mind he was unable to resist, and with an exhausted flick of his wand, the wards came down.

"Thanks old man," she mused and pulled his wand from him as he fell back from his half sitting position.

"Charlotte... I knew you couldn't be trusted.... The Headmaster~"

"Oh, the Headmaster won't find out." She lifted several of the most interesting looking vials. 

She glanced back at him, he was lying there helplessly crushed between two aisles, his body was one long black form. His eyes were staring at her, hatred evident there. She had betrayed him yet again... and this time it was pretty bad. If anyone ever found out, well, she wasn't actually sure what would happen to her, but after he had removed himself from her life a couple months prior, she really didn't care. She endured Potions with him, he spent his time going out of his way to ignore her, it was awful. She had no one to sponsor her efforts in the dueling club so she was never allowed to duel other schools, only practice with the kids at Hogwarts. She was more self-destructive now than she had ever been. She had no plans to even bother trying anymore. Unfortunately the one thing that still haunted her, were the memories of training with him, the teasing snipes they exchanged. He had been so kind, now he was this horrible man who couldn't care if she lived or died. It hurt really bad. She tried not to cry when she was alone, and when she didn't, when she held it in she found it twisted her up inside into... something really scary. It gave her this supreme dark strength. Strength enough to carry off this theft. 

She finished slipping vials into her pockets, and turned to face Snape. "This is the first time you've said _one_ word to me in weeks you realize?" 

He glared at her.

"You really hate me don't you?"

_"Yes."_

She knelt down, her face sinister and smiling at him, "oh but that's not really true, now... no, you, you don't hate me at all. Say it."

He fought it a little. "I don't hate you at all."

"See, that wasn't so bad. That's the nice thing about the _Suggestion_ potion I've noticed, it can't make a person do something he is _really_ against doing. Like, I can't make you kill yourself... which I wouldn't do anyhow," she added in an afterthought. "I can't make you do anything you are really opposed to doing."

He was looking up at the ingredients as if he was trying to formulate some sort of plan, but was too weak to actually execute it.

"Sorry about the _Weakness_ thing, but I couldn't have you bash me in the face or something you know... didn't want to take that chance."

"You stupid girl. Do you honestly think I would've hit you?" He uttered.

"Let's just say, I'm a student~"

He snorted at that.

She continued rather annoyed. "You're a professor, you could've squashed me quite easily, and I didn't want to take that chance... why, are you saying you wouldn't have hit me?"

Snape sighed. "I demand you give me the antidote, now...." His command died on his lips in his weakened state.

"No." She crawled over his helpless form, and gazed down at him. "You're going to hear this now. Even if you won't remember.

"I never meant to betray you professor... not, not before. Not with my notebook of poison~"

He made a dismissive sound, slightly unnerved that her body hovered over his, a little too close for him to be comfortable.

"Look at me."

He had to.

"I had that notebook for years. I have been working on it for years... I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just who I am. Maybe I am an evil girl, maybe that's all true, but your... your... _friendship_ meant everything to me." Her eyes teared. "And you just threw that away!"

Professor Snape was looking at her gravely, considering her words. 

Then something came over her. She realized he wasn't going to remember any of this. She kissed him.

"Kiss me back," she breathed.

He did. He had no choice. It obviously wasn't something he was so opposed to doing either, she realized, or he would've fought it.

She flicked her tongue into his mouth, "don't stop. Oh I've missed you, I've missed you."

Charlotte ran her fingers into his hair, it was like coal so black against her pale hand, she flattened her body against his. The expression on his face was confusion, and slight horror.

"Miss Malfoy~"

"Say my name," she hissed, "Charlotte."

"Charlotte..." he uttered.

"Tell me you want me."

"I, I want you... I want you... to... put back the... vials."

She silenced him with another kiss.

"I want you professor," she whispered into his ear.

He didn't say anything.

She could feel his body under her own, it felt so delicious she wanted to pretend it was all true. She could smell his neck, his hair falling gently there... musky spice, and she kissed it. Her lips and her tongue against his neck, his ear... slowly working her way to the buttons at his throat. 

Nearly inaudible, but she had heard it, he was biting back a moan. 

"Oh yes...." She lifted her head to look at his face. He was breathing heavily, his lips parted slightly, a bit of a dreamy look on his face, and fear. "Oh kiss me again." 

He didn't resist as much this time. His kiss came softer and deeper. She ran her fingers over the palms of his hands, which lay at his sides motionless. He breathed, she could hear his breath coming raggedly. 

"Charlotte..." he uttered, she hadn't even coaxed it out of him this time. It was enough to drive her mad, but she certainly wasn't going to continue like this... this was, really wrong. And she began to wonder how long it would take for that potion to wear off, she really only had a small amount mixed with weakness... then this horrible image of him coming out of it completely and grabbing her came to mind. That woke her. 

"No." She said standing, then pressed her face to the cold wet wall... "yuk...." Disgusted she pulled a vial of purple potion from an upper pocket, on it's side there was a label which read '_Forget'_. 

Snape was watching her from the odd angle on the floor between two aisles, he was once more wary, and slightly flushed. 

Charlotte knelt down briskly, "drink this."

He fought with his body, trying to sit up. The professor watched her annoyed as she fed him the drought.

"Sorry professor, you'll hate me again tomorrow."

* * * * *

Clothilde touched her lips absently with her fingertips as she was lost in thought. Bittersweet memory. One only she possessed. She had eradicated it from him altogether.... If she hadn't he would never had spoken to her again, she may well have wound up in Azkaban... who knows. She was embarrassed it had ever transpired. She was slightly out of touch with reality back in those days. 

Pushing that out of her mind she focused on the few Gryffindors who hadn't gone home for Christmas. 

Fred or George Weasley was waving at her, trying to wake her from the stupor she was in. "Anyone at home?"

"I'm sorry," she smiled. "What did you want?"

"Canary Cream?"

Before she could ponder this, Ron, Hermione and Harry all jumped on him, "NO!!"

* * * * *

"I thought you _liked_ Clothilde," Ron was saying Christmas morning as they perused the presents they had received.

"I _do like her_."

"But you still think we should find out where in the tower she lives, and break in?"

She rolled her eyes. "We don't even know if she _lives_ in the tower or not."

"Well _of course_ she lives here. She's a Gryffindor after all." Ron affirmed.

Harry looked up from his new sweater, "we really don't know that Ron."

"She must be. Come on is Dumbledore going to give you some lousy Slytherin or something to guard you? Be serious." His mouth was full of Bertie Botts.

Harry and Hermione's eyes met. 

"I don't know Hermione, I don't see the point."

She found something rather interesting on the floor again. "Well, what do we really know about her?"

"That Dumbledore trusts her with Harry's _life_. That's good enough for me."

"Dumbledore also hired on the fake Professor Moody."

Harry looked over at Ron. "She's got a point."

Ron sighed. "All right, but not today. It's Christmas after all." 

Hermione sat back in her cushy chair looking fairly pleased.

Ron smiled at her, "it's the Yule Ball tonight remember."

"I remember," she got up.

"Where are you going?"

"To get changed for breakfast, do you mind?"

Harry wondered if their bickering was ever going to end. He felt kind've bad that they were going to be ransacking Clothilde's residence on a hunch. It really wasn't the right thing to do. Not that the three of them hadn't traipsed the castle under the invisibility cloak plenty of times... but, it still felt pretty bad. He did wonder how she could be practicing magic without the Ministry of Magic knowing about it. He had reasoned that maybe Dumbledore was hiding it from them here at Hogwarts... but that wouldn't make sense while she had been living outside of the school for years using her magical ability. She had an Athame... not that they were illegal, but they were rare, hard to get... maybe he was curious too, but still.... It didn't feel right.

  


  



	7. Clothilde Chapter 7

"Clothilde"

Chapter 7 "The Yule Ball"

__

A view from a broken window

I can hardy breathe

clouds are forming faces

and they laugh at me

strange desires 

under friendly fire

but it's alright it still feels nice

It's taking me away

I'm seeking shelter from pain

I'm holding on again

holding on again

seeking shelter from pain

It gives me a line and I cross it

an acrobat graced with skill

"Taking Me Away" ~The Tea Party

Professor Snape was staring out one of the porthole windows, it was nearly coated with snow, but Filch had tried his best to keep it dusted out so Severus would get some sunlight down there in his office. He heaved a sigh... the Yule Ball was in progress, he rarely ever attended, and only at Dumbledore's request to chaperone the festivities. 

He turned about and unlocked a desk drawer... _'Charlotte Malfoy's Book of Poisons'_. It was black, the lettering was hot pink but that was actually an area where Charlotte had ripped away the black material to carve the letters in. Creative in her violent nature. 

Snape took a drink. 

She would be at the Ball he assumed, he'd overheard Harry Potter talking about going, and that would be a place she would feel he needed to be protected, Severus was certain. 

Snape ran a hand over his face roughly, then looked down at the book again incredulous. So... she had failed out of Hogwarts as she had always predicted, she had watched them snap her wand, alone... no one to reassure her. He had abandoned her. Abandoned one of the only Slytherin who he really felt a kindred spirit with. They had shared some very similar experiences going to school there, she just never knew... and he never let on. 

She had betrayed his trust.

He shut the book hastily... then moved back to the window. 

She hadn't returned to take Filch's position as he once said, she had returned as someone else. Half dead. He wondered to himself what she had been through. 

He had heard the rumors... that she had been a ruthless Auror. Obviously Clovis Malfoy had arranged for her to become an Auror after the Ministry of Magic had found out about Lucius being a Death Eater, and all the suspicion surrounding him... must've suddenly been very handy to have kept his Mudblood daughter around. He probably had decided to get in touch with her and give her his name just in case something like that did happen. He could hear Clovis now, "_You see, I have a half-Muggle daughter myself I would never be involved with Voldemort of my own free will. What if something awful had become of her, I love her too much to risk it."_

Snape knew the rumors... she was violent. Not really a shock to him. That was probably true, she'd always been an angry young woman. The rumors claimed she could be hired for a price... to protect, or _to kill._ He wondered if that was true. 

He traced the line of snow in the window idly. He had done some things for Voldemort he was not proud of... it was hard to cast stones at someone else. It was hard to feel betrayed by someone he had always cared about when he knew it was nothing but a childish whim on her part really. Knowing that... if perhaps he had continued to help her she might not have gone down the path she did. If she had not failed Hogwarts, her wand would be intact, she could cast spells and not have to hide it from the ridiculous Ministry. 

'Clothilde Corgan' had become a name mothers used to scare their children into being good... like Sirius, she was a viper in the night... a phantom. When Dumbledore had uttered the idea of bringing her into Hogwarts one day in the staff room the looks on the faces of the other professors... the blanched expressions. Severus sneered a bit at the memory of it. And now he knew, Clothilde was Charlotte Malfoy. The student he had taken such a shine to in his first year as a professor. 

That had been a hard year. Somehow taking her under his wing had meant a lot to him. It gave him something positive to work on. Made him feel he was making a difference, while at the same time he was still dealing with Voldemort... a very nerve wreaking situation. Spying for Dumbledore. Charlotte had offered that almost, mundane case of juvenile delinquency that returned him to reality every day. When she betrayed him, it was like the things had to put up with from the other Death Eaters... he simply wasn't prepared for it. 

He touched his lips absently. Then of course there was that other episode in the potions office she probably believed he had forgotten.... How in the world she could've assumed she could pull anything potions oriented over on _The Potions Master_ was beyond him. One sip of that tea and he knew, he _knew_ he'd been poisoned. The taste of it alone told him what it was... although he had to admit she had hidden it rather well, he didn't smell anything while actually sipping it. Then of course, it was too late to stop it from working it's way into his system... but, he certainly did not swallow the _'Forget' _potion. At that point, he had swallowed so little of that tea... neither the _Suggestion _nor the _Weakness_ were actually working. He had no plans to drop that one on Clothilde though, he supposed she had enough on her mind. 

Snape moved again to his desk and poured himself another draught of Scotch, then thought the better of it. Ironic how she was back now... now that Voldemort had returned and he was once again Albus' spy. His mind raced over the possibilities of what that could actually mean... it did seem a bit, dubious but Dumbledore trusted her, he decided to chalk it up to paranoia on his part... for now. 

He drank the Scotch. Pounded the goblet back down onto his desk, and swept out of his office determinedly.

* * * * *

The great hall was made to look like an ice palace. The long tables had all been moved out and several small round tables were set around the room. There was an illusion of glittering snow falling from the ceiling. It was enchanting. Clothilde had never been to the Yule Ball and had never seen what a wonderful job they did making it... for lack of a better word, magical. Not too many of the students had stayed on for Christmas, there were probably around fifty students, and the staff of course. They were all wearing their dress robes and very lovely gowns, the girls had their hair coifed high. Harry had spent a long time in his dormitory attempting to slick his hair into place... but it just wasn't an attainable goal. 

"No, this time it was different, it was as if the cauldron was faulty or something the bottom just _sagged_ right out of it," Neville was saying.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "it was the order you put the quills in again Neville."

"I don't know..."

"Why don't you talk to Percy Weasley? I think Ron could help you with that," Harry said this quietly but smiled mischievously as his best friend shot him a look. 

Ron was trying to work up the nerve to ask Hermione to dance, of course it's harder when one doesn't actually know how himself.

Clothilde was sitting at one of the small tables, shadowed, behind Harry watching all of this transpire. The pentacles on her tabard glittered in the warm candlelight. She sat menacingly, one arm resting on the back of her chair. Her Athame shining at her side. This was not the safest place for Harry to be. Anyone could show up, the lighting was bad... it would be easy to lose him. He probably knew that too. 

"Ah Harry, how are you enjoying the Yule Ball?" 

It was Dumbledore in fine robes. And he looked straight back at her as if he knew what she was thinking. He was a little spooky sometimes.

Clothilde met his eyes, her face impassive. Yet, there was the flicker of a smile.

It was amid the small talk, the wafting of strong perfume and some silly girlish giggle that she began to notice the sea of dancing couples parting. Severus Snape crossed the room, silencing the silly girlish giggle with a stern look in her direction. His blacker than night robes billowing behind him, cutting a path through the crowd. Clothilde was suddenly reminded of Uncle Drosselmeyer, from "The Nutcracker".

There was some humor there. He was a garish figure amid all the pale pastel gowns and the false snow which felt so prettily in his hair then vanished. Snape's eyes swept the room, his brow furrowing, then he was looking over at Harry. He glided over to where her party was located.

"Mr. Potter," he said stiffly, as pleasantly as he could manage. "Headmaster."

"Well... Severus, so good to see you here." Dumbledore smiled warmly, his eyes twinkled. "I was wondering when you were going to drop in."

Snape apparently didn't hear or fully catch what the Headmaster was conveying. Instead he turned all his attention to Clothilde. For a moment the two of them were staring at each other. He looked almost agitated. She was cool... her head tilted to one side slightly waiting.

Most of the Gryffindor house had moved away from Snape as if he had some sort of transmittable disease. 

Then the most bizarre thing happened, he lifted his chin a bit, and extended his hand to her, with the utmost grace. In the most confident, silkiest voice he said, "may I have this dance?" 

Ron was looking on in horror. He also considered using that line if it worked for Snape... hey, if it worked for Snape how could he really go wrong?

Clothilde glanced at Dumbledore, hoping he would stay with Harry. The Headmaster nodded at her smiling. She stood, this was going to look stupid, she was still in her armor. 

"Of course." She accepted his hand, the sharp studs on the back of her knuckles glittered.

Severus looked over at several of the students who were dancing beside them, and gaping, and he gave them a rather menacing exchange. They quickly maneuvered away. 

Tchaikovsky was the music that began to play. She wasn't even going to satisfy the Headmaster with a look this time. Without a question of a doubt, he was reading her mind. She looked up into Snape's eyes instead as she slid one hand on his shoulder, he flinched ever so slightly... as if he had never grown accustom to being touched. 

She met his eyes as they began to dance, slowly. She could feel his hair, coal black tickling her face, they were that close. He had come all the way down there to dance with her? It was incredibly romantic... she couldn't fathom why.

"You may think me ridiculous, but I have enjoyed the witty rapport these past few... days."

"I have enjoyed it as well."

His face registered some relief. She hadn't hit him with her own brand of self-loathing. "You look very..." he was going to say something polite, like, '_elegant'_, that was the plan, but the truth of his feelings surfaced and "beautiful" is what escaped much to his dismay. Embarrassed, his eyes found the marble floor suddenly very interesting.

"Beautiful?"

Oh, she had heard the slip. Severus winced.

She pulled back enough to gaze into the eyes he was trying to hide from her. She was actually having a hard time breathing herself, her heart felt as if it had grown so large it threatened the space she had reserved for her lungs. Although she was seeking out eye-contact she wasn't certain what she would do once she obtained it.

He felt the intensity of her eyes on his... her breath against his skin as if time were standing still at that moment.

The music was playing but they were no longer moving. Had he completely offended her? Why had he dared such a stupid remark?... Then again if he had offended her, so what? He didn't care... only, he really did feel stupid for exposing himself so much.

Taking a breath he lifted his eyes to meet hers, she was looking at him with more an intense expression of wonder than disgust or hatred. He glanced away and then looked up again quickly.

"I... take back that remark I made about Italian Ren," she said at long last, her voice had the distinct sound of someone who had just caught her breath. She lowered her own eyes and took in his form, from the buttons at his ankles, slowly... up to the lace at his throat. 

He was looking at her with a seemingly severe expression. Her words did not die in her throat however, she forced herself to continue. "It is... astonishing on you."

His face seemed to widen a bit, his lips parted but nothing came out. He... surely she was not speaking to him, or perhaps she was toying with him, making some mockery of him. He actually turned to see if someone was laughing on the edge of the ballroom. No one was. He fought the explosion of feeling melting away the inner iciness he was accustom to. Afraid to feel anything at all... afraid it would be ripped away in an instant.

The music stopped and everyone else was leaving the floor.

"Uhh... I believe this dance is over," she said.

"So it is." His voice was direct, the edge garnered from years of teaching practice had returned, and he released her hand.

"I am not going to forget this," she said to the cold, black form bowing curtly before her now.

"Oh... good."

She smiled at the embarrassed sarcasm.

In a whirl of black robes he turned and glided away from her.

"What in the world did he say to you?" It was Harry's voice suddenly.

She turned and found Hermione's eyes on her, she was looking at Clothilde as if she knew exactly what was going on.

"I thought you were going to kiss him for a minute!" Ron said disgusted as the scene replayed in his mind.

She felt as if she was in a daze. "I think I almost did." This was said quietly enough for only Harry to hear.

He looked up at her uncertainly.

Across the room she caught the last glimpse of him, his black robes swishing about him as he sashayed around people on his way out.

* * * * *

"Ron, Ron wake up Ron."

"Why, what's going on?" 

"C'mon Ron, we're going to look for Clothilde's room now." 

"What?..." He looked at a clock. "It's two in the morning."

"Hermione's already waiting for us in the common room." Harry said as he moved away from his best friend's bed. "I'll meet you down there."

"Who decided we were doing this _tonight_ anyhow? Christmas is barely over."

* * * * *

Clothilde sat staring out a window in the hallway outside of the large painting of the fat lady, who had spent a lot of time trying to chat with her. 

"My dear is this really the sort of work for you? You look tired. You aren't really part of Gryffindor _are_ you?"

Harry's bodyguard had actually talked to her quite a bit during the last few days. She spent her nights like this, hanging around the Gryffindor tower, in the dark. She could've passed for a specter herself... pale and intense in expression. Perhaps it was in that moment when she decided to have a look outside that the three of them got out of their tower unnoticed in Harry's invisibility cloak. She wasn't sure how it happened, she went back in to check on Harry, and found he was missing... along with Ron and Hermione. 

She checked her watch, three in the morning... she swooped out of the large portrait, and thundered down the hall, her tabard floating with the fluttering weightlessness of wings. She had her gladius drawn. 

"Charlotte...."

She heard a deep voice behind her, and slashed through the air as she spun.

"Ahh..." 

It was Severus.

She blinked away the adrenaline that had been coursing through her to focus on him, swathed in black, his long shining black hair hung down in front of his face... he held his hand.

"Are you hurt?" Clothilde heard her voice... it sounded a lot less flat and alto at the moment... it sounded girlish, and it even hinted that she might actually care. She cringed inwardly.

"It's nothing. Just a cut."

"Let me see."

Pursing his lips a little annoyed Snape looked down at her, then thrust the injured hand toward her. There was some blood, it wasn't too bad though.

"Looks like the blade just grazed you. Not bad at all, did you want me to attempt to heal it or... I have some super-glue~"

He closed his fingers over it and pulled away. "Glue?"

"Yes, it works to close wounds, they used it in a Muggle war... at least one I know of. I carry it just in case."

He arched one eyebrow then cast a minor healing spell. 

"Glue," he was muttering. "One would think you had spent some time after Hogwarts at least, practicing healing spells. For someone in your... line of work it would seem a necessity."

She sheathed the sword. Looked into his dark eyes, and then took the hand she had injured in her own hands and appraised it. The white doe-skin gloves were warm, her fingers traced where the mark had been. "Perhaps I should do more study in that area."

He freed himself from her.

Their eyes met.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you."

For a moment he thought she was referring to the past, he looked at her wordlessly, stupidly.

"Your hand."

"Ah... I presume I startled you."

"Yes," she began to walk again; Snape followed. "I've misplaced Harry."

There was the ever so slight hint of amusement on his lips. "Ah yes... Mr. Potter and his elusive invisibility cloak."

"What?"


	8. Clothilde Chapter 8

"Clothilde"

Chapter 8 _"Tear apart, tear apart"_

"Here." Hermione said as they stopped in front of a painting none of them had ever noticed before. It was of a ruin of some sort of church, stark trees stretched toward the sky as if reaching for something. This was surrounded by black gravestones, some tilted and askew. It seemed to be black and white with a bit of a sepia coloring.   
  
"_Here?"_ Ron peered out from under the cloak at the rather grim painting. "We're in the dungeon. Clothilde lives around the tower, you know, like McGonagall?"

"Nope." Hermione reaffirmed, "this is where she lives. I followed her yesterday."

They shucked off the cloak, reappearing in a dungeon hallway, not far at all from Slytherin. 

"What is _up_ with this painting?" Ron wondered out loud.

"You'll find this interesting then," she said as she looked rather seriously at the painting. "Bludgeon."

The eerie painting swung open.

Harry and Ron exchanged uneasy looks.

"Come on then." Hermione climbed inside.

They followed her inside. The place had a similar castle feel. There were large heavy tables and chairs, with fur covering them for cushions. It was nearly stark in the living room. Just some ancient looking candles for illumination. A Muggle history book sat on one table. Hermione moved to look at it.

"'The Norse Conquest'," she read aloud, then smiled to herself a little remembering a discussion they had had a while back. 

"Whoa..." Ron rounded a large desk and came across shelves and shelves of potions. "Potions, hundreds of them."

Hermione and Harry came up behind him astonished at the glittering vials before them, they wondered if Snape had that many in the school's back room. Their eyes suddenly fell upon several jars nearby, what looked to be human brains were floating within. For a moment all of them replayed the scene in their heads, the comment she had made in the potions class while verbally sparring with Professor Snape. 

"Wait a minute... didn't Clothilde~"

"Removed them with a hammer and chisel?... Yes Hermione, she did say that." Ron muttered.

Harry moved over toward the jars. There were slender labels at the base of each one. He tried to block out the brain floating there and instead read the label. "'Schizophrenic brain'."

"What?" Hermione was beside him now, "'Bi-polar brain'. 'Personality disorder: Anti-social: brain'." 

"I don't think she scooped these out with a spoon." Harry said nearly laughing at the conclusion they had been jumping to.

They all drew in a deep breath after they realized the mistake they had made. 

Hermione wasted no time in rummaging through the desk. Ron was a little horrified when he saw what she was doing. 

"What if she has wards on those?"

She stopped... "I hadn't thought of that."

"WHAT?!"

"Just didn't cross my mind, besides how good could they be if she didn't pass her NEWTs anyhow?"

"Maybe she's been practicing since then."

Harry was standing in her bedroom feeling... really strange looking around in there. Not really having any idea what they were looking for he knelt down and looked under her bed.

"What's this?" Hermione said pulling a Hogwart's yearbook from one of the drawers. Ron leaned in to look as well. Their were the usual moving photos of the graduating class, and some casual shots, then the staff....

"Oy, look at Snape!" 

"This must've been one of the first years he taught," Hermione marveled at how _young_ he looked. 

"Still as ugly."

She rolled her eyes then flipped forward a few pages. Nearing the back of the book it had been sectioned into four parts, the four households. 

Ron was getting bored, he moved into the pantry to _look around, _as Hermione read on.

"Look at _this_, there's a photo in the Slytherin section... it's Clothilde! But that's not her name here...."

"What?" Said Ron as he raced back in. A plate went flying after him. "What the?" 

A sudden flurry of plates and teacups came flying through the air at him. As he dodged the onslaught Hermione read aloud.

"Charlotte Malfoy the only Slytherin student in the Hogwarts Dueling Club, reputedly the best on the team but without a sponsor she was unable to show off her prowess against Beauxbatons in her final year." 

The photo was of her standing in a dueling stance, rather long greasy hair hanging down onto her shoulders, she moved and waved her wand with lightning speed. 

Ron was too busy dodging the kitchenware to hear what she had said. He ran past her into Clothilde's bedroom. 

"Ron?" Hermione was so engrossed in what she'd been reading she hadn't been paying attention to what was going on around her, but then something hit her, and as she turned she saw the vials of potions spinning into a beautiful spiral in the air behind her. The spiral was growing larger and larger and more and more of the bottles were added to it. She shrieked, and clasping the yearbook ran into the room as well. 

Vials began pelting them, smashing all around the bedroom.

Hermione began to say something, shaking bits of glass from her hair in shock but then she focused on Harry and Ron. They were standing there in silence staring down at a book lying open on the bed, with a look of unabashed horror on their faces. 

"What?..." She tried to read the words but they were all moving around, and the red ink was smearing.

Ron lifted it to get a better look, the words seemed to be alive they drifted off the page, and swirled about slurring with the other sentences. He heard Hermione gasp but wasn't sure why. Then he heard the sound of a splash... a loud, heavy drop of something hitting the floor. He looked down.

There was a pool of blood at his feet. 

The ink was pouring off the pages... it was blood. 

"What the?~"

"It was under her bed," Harry said. "Along with these." He held several quills and a stoppered bottle of ink.

"Intruders!!! Intruders rummaging through Charlotte's things!!!" Peeves was floating beside the vials of potions again.

"Look out!"

A flurry of potions came flying at them.

* * * * *

"What was that?" Clothilde stopped suddenly.

Snape looked about though he had heard nothing.

"My wards... someone's in my private chambers." She flew down the steps to the dungeon. The professor was on her heels.

They rounded the corner and came to the morbid painting.

"Bludgeon." 

It swung open.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged.

Inside the overlarge chairs were stacked on top of one another, in some sort of fantastic geometric feat. There were broken dishes and teacups strewn about the living room as if they had been thrown at a person who was running away from the pantry.

As Clothilde and Severus stared at the wreckage in bewilderment she nearly stopped to explain that her rooms were not usually in such disarray but then the sound of something glass breaking and then a yell came from her bedroom. 

They rushed ahead to see what was going on.

"Peeves!" Snape's voice was full of shock and annoyance.

Clothilde winced, oh this was not a good scene, she'd be in trouble for hiding him.

Peeves was floating over her desk and dashing vials of her most precious potions at someone in her bedroom.

"Peeves," she hissed, aiming a deadly look at his tiny form, "stop smashing those vials!"

Another bottle broke.

Snape's eyes went to the hundreds of vials of potions, and the jars... of brains.

"Intruders in your bedroom! Intruders!!!"

She peered around the corner of her room cautiously drawing her sword.

Peeves continued hurling potions everywhere now. Some fizzled and exploded.

"Ow!" It was Ron's voice.

There were Harry, Ron and Hermione stretched out behind her bed.

Clothilde sheathed her blade once again.

Snape nudged the broken potion's vial at his feet with the toe of his shoe, _'Forget'_... was the label on the side. He looked up at the poltergeist icily. 

The flurry of flying objects stopped abruptly.

"Breaking and entering... your bodyguard's quarters nonetheless, Mr. Potter a very serious offense~" But his words died on his lips as he set foot in the doorway to Clothilde's bedroom.

Ron was holding a large journal in his hands, there was blood flowing out of it, running down his arm and pooling on the floor.

"This was under your bed, with some quills and ink?..." Hermione continued uncertain.

"What... does that mean?" Ron asked horrified.

Clothilde took the journal from Ron and the blood vanished. She pressed it to her chest. 

"It means, I am most inspired to write just before I go to sleep." She turned and looked directly at Severus.

Everyone in the room was in a lot of trouble. 

On any other day Snape would be having the time of his life but at that moment he was just wishing the _Forget_ potion hadn't smashed. He looked at Clothilde, her face was a mask of strength. Standing there protecting her journal defiantly. He didn't want to tell Dumbledore... he wanted to protect her. There had to be a good reason why she had a book of Dark Magic under her bed... why, she was now cradling it in her arms.

Harry had never seen Snape at such a loss, he was standing there in the doorway looking as if someone had just killed his puppy.

There was actually a moment when Clothilde, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Peeves thought the professor wasn't going to tell anyone. A moment of wistful hope.

"I will speak to the Headmaster," he said quietly.

Clothilde watched him march over to her hearth, she set the book on her bed absently and looked down at the trio unhappily. 

"Come with me."

They traipsed off after her.

Snape turned as if he was going to stop them.

"We will be in Gryffindor tower."

He turned back to the hearth. "Incendio." Before speaking to Dumbledore he just had to see for himself. A few swift steps into her bedroom and he wistfully lifted the journal which began to bleed afresh.

"'Clothilde Corgan's book of Curses'."

He felt himself sicken... threw down the book and sprinted after them.

* * * * *

She was moving rather fast out of the dungeon and back toward the tower.

"You're… you're a Malfoy." Harry was the only one brave enough to say it.

Clothilde looked at him darkly. 

"I can't believe you're part of Slytherin…" Ron mumbled.

She heaved a sigh. "Why did you sneak away from me Harry? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"I… I guess I wasn't thinking~"

"Apparently not."

They were near Gryffindor now, she could see the painting of the Fat Lady just down the hall.

"I read your yearbook," Hermione said quietly feeling slightly ashamed of her own actions now.

"And whoa Snape looked hysterical!"

"He _looks_ exactly the same," Clothilde said defensively.

They all glanced up at her shrugging. 

"Uhh, Clothilde about that journal…" Harry began.

"And here we are back at Gryffindor," she stated not interested in answering to the three of them at that moment.

"Harry." Came a deep voice from behind her, she turned thinking it must be Severus again.

It wasn't.

"Macnair?" Clothilde took a confused step back, holding the trio behind her. She had worked with him through the Ministry of Magic, he had the lovely job of destroying unsafe magical creatures, what was he doing there? Apparently he didn't recognize her.

He drew his wand but she drew her Athame faster.

"I wouldn't."

He lifted the wand slightly.

"Stupefy!" She called out before he could move. A red arc of light. Unfortunately Macnair managed to flatten himself on the floor quickly avoiding the spell altogether. Instead he lunged forward and grabbed her ankle pulling her off her feet, and making Harry an easier target.

Clothilde nailed him in the face with the heel of her boot, and scrambled back.

"Accio wand!!"

His wand jerked violently free of his grubby hand and into her own. 

Macnair leapt on top of her as she caught it and punched her in the mouth.

She could hear the trio screaming. She could hear footsteps running down the hall. She felt herself being knocked silly as the large, stubby man was pummeling her senseless.

Clothilde slashed at his throat desperately with her gladius, caught his nose on the studs on the back of her knuckles with her other hand, blood danced through the air in an arc, and she kicked herself free. She scrambled to be on her feet as he recovered.

As she turned, blood trickling from her lip she snarled.

"Disciduim diripio!!!" Clothilde slashed the air with her sword viciously, in some crude pantomime of what the spell was actually meant to do to him. Tearing him apart with her magic. Crimson lightning streamed from her, spewing through the hall. There was an odd sound, as if something had exploded somewhere distant. A deep, internal… thud. The blast hurled him through the air and sent him crashing through the wall opposite them.

Macnair stumbled forward a couple steps as the smoky haze cleared. She was hovering over him, a dark angry look on her face, her hair like a mane whirling about her…. He fell to his knees and spat out blood… and then vomited blood. And collapsed before her.

She stood there, trembling with rage… there was smoke, and the electricity of the spells still in the air… and the body lying crumpled at her feet.

Clothilde felt a firm hand on her shoulder, it woke her.

Snape was standing there. Then as she turned she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione all safe… with shocked, and horrified expressions on their faces. Then the face of Professor McGonagall who must've been awakened by the thunderous explosion.

"Charlotte." 

Her eyes met Severus's.

"You're bleeding. You should go to the hospital wing."

"Take Macnair."

"Whatever is left of him," McGonagall said stiffly.

"Is he… dead?" Came Harry's voice.

"The three of you back into your dormitories at once."

Snape looked at Clothilde, gently, as if he was attempting to calm a wild horse. "What did you do to him?"

Her face was dark, but flat. "Ruptured his internal organs."


	9. Clothilde Chapter 9

"Clothilde"

Chapter 9 "A chthonic soul"

__

Now chthonic life has set its sights on

Making me a slave to its ways

I wait for return

Until then my soul it burns

And it burns only for you…

~"The Halcyon Days" The Tea Party

"That woman is not an 'unknown' named Clothilde Corgan, that is _Charlotte Malfoy!_ Now I don't know why you have deemed to hire her on Albus, but she is dangerous. I for one have never even heard of that curse she used in the hall outside Gryffindor tower." Minerva said passionately as she faced the Headmaster and Snape in Professor Dumbledore's office. She swished around in her tartan bathrobe as she continued, positively unhinged by what she had seen this night. 

Severus glanced at the floor unable to tell her what the curse was as she searched his face for an answer.

"Well, for a girl who failed out of Hogwarts she's obviously spent a good deal of her time studying Dark Magic, that curse had to have been one of her _own_ Albus. Unpublished, untested… unsafe."

Dumbledore met her eyes with a nearly calm expression. "I know."

"You… you know?"

"Yes, I knew what she had been working on before I hired her."

Snape's head jerked up to look at him hopefully.

The Headmaster met his knowingly.

"If…" Severus began, "if that's the only magic she's superior at, then perhaps there's no reason for concern~"

McGonagall fixed him with a severe look.

That had sounded weak even to him.

"Well, Charlotte Malfoy may have failed out of Potions Severus. She may have failed miserably out of Charms, and she may have failed her NEWTs on a whole, but I can assure you she did not fail Transfiguration. She received the highest grade I've ever given in that class."

Snape's face widened. He had no idea.

"There is a list of seven. Seven known Animagi in this century… now Clothilde Corgan's name is not on that list, but Charlotte Malfoy's _is_."

"What?…"

"Yes Professor Snape."

"What animal?~"

"A cat." She turned to look at Dumbledore, "but if you ask me, if she's been practicing magic all this time, behind the back of the Ministry of Magic, I might add, she probably can turn herself into more than a cat by now."

"Professor McGonagall," the Headmaster said soothingly. "She's on _our_ side."

"What she did to Macnair, Professor Dumbledore…" she was unable to finish the thought, "I for one do not feel safe having her in Gryffindor tower… guarding Harry Potter."

"She saved his life." Snape said curtly.

"She _ruptured internal organs_, why not a spell to stun the man?"

"She did… try. I even heard her issue him a warning. Would you rather that was Potter lying in the hospital wing?"

"Severus," she said now in a kinder, almost patronizing voice. "I know you feel you failed her when she was a student here, don't allow that idea to cloud your judgment now."

He met her with an icy look. "That is certainly _not_ the issue."

"Professors…. Clothilde Corgan has my trust, but, if you insist Minerva, we could remove her from her current duties until we have assembled The Order of The Phoenix to discuss this matter further." Dumbledore rounded his desk. 

Professor McGonagall's mouth drew into a thin line, she didn't want to cause Clothilde any trouble really. She had nothing personal against her… after all she had been a great student when she was seventeen, unfortunately she was no longer seventeen, she was a grown woman who had done some rather dire things in her life. She had made some very bad choices over the years… Minerva didn't know that she could bring herself to trust Miss Corgan now. She would have to be the one to do the brave, yet rather unpopular deed. 

"I'm going to have to say, yes Professor Dumbledore."

"So be it."

Snape could feel all hope depleted from him. As if he had a vast amount _to_ deplete.

"Professor Snape," Albus began, waking the Potions Master. "I would like you to keep an eye on Miss Corgan until this matter is settled."

Snape attempted to protest but was silenced by a look, and he said only, "yes Headmaster."

* * * * *

Severus swept down the dungeon hallway, his robes spread out all around him, giving him the impression of gliding. The halls were silent, early morning in a two week holiday… the sound of his own footfalls echoed. He replayed that duel in his mind, the atrocious sound of it… thunderous, the crack of the curse, the… thud, of organs rupturing deep within Macnair, the wall exploding by the sheer force of the man being thrown into it. The blood… everywhere. Certainly he had seen his share of Dark Magic, it was awesome, and awful all at once… he was almost immune to the horror of it. He wondered how Granger, Weasley and Potter were dealing. He knew this had to be on Clothilde's mind. 

He stopped abruptly as he reached the questionable painting. 

"Bludgeon." He stated plaintively. It didn't move.

Sighing, he knocked.

* * * * *

Clothilde opened the door. It was Severus. She let him in and returned to her chair before the fire. 

"I'm not in the most jovial mood but feel free to sit," she hoisted her shot glass, "and I'll just pound down a couple more of these, which should improve my countenance considerably." Her tone was rather… terse.

He pretended not to notice and joined her. Without Peeves this place really was a graveyard. Stark… gray, what was left of the potions vials glittering in the corner, and rows of books. And… she hadn't bothered to do more than pull two of the chairs out of the state Peeves had left them in. There were still shards of glass and spilled potion all over the room. 

She watched him surveying the mess. "I'm no good at charms, and I've been too lazy to deal with it yet."

"Odd, that you cannot manage a charm spell but do perfectly well with curses."

_Understatement._

"I suppose so. Charms are baby curse spells. Perhaps it's rather like being able to ace physics but unable to balance one's checkbook?"

He wondered what a 'checkbook' was briefly, but let it pass. Something Muggle he assumed… and she had been drinking.

"So… what brings you by _Professor_?"

"Erm…." 

Definitely drunk.

"You're duties have been suspended, for now. There is going to be a meeting to determine…."

She waved it away. "Nevermind, I guessed this much." Clothilde set down the glass, and gazed over at him, a mass of black crepe in her ancient chair… he looked good today, he _really _looked good today. His hair was so… black. 

Clothilde took a moment to examine the amount of alcohol left in her bottle. 

"Hmm," she said to herself as if confirming something. She could feel Snape watching her, she met his eyes. "He sent you to look after me?" This… came more sober than her prior statements.

"Yes."

She weighed the idea, then said, "so… did that duel count as _foolish wand waving_?" Then laughed shortly, as if that was the silliest thought she had had in quite sometime. 

Snape did not reply. 

She laughed… she wanted to cry. Harry, Ron and Hermione had seen exactly what she had tried her best to hide from them. Her dark side. What she could do. How frightening it could be. She knew they would never look at her the same way again. 

Clothilde smashed her shot glass into the hearth.

This woke Severus. "Charlotte…."

She faced him now with the darkest expression he'd ever seen on her face. It was actually a little scary. He wondered if drunk, worked into a state like this… could she, would she be capable of… using a curse?

"Perhaps," he stood, "I should come back at a better time."

"You're scared of me."

"You've had too much to drink. That is all."

Conceding that was probably the case she slid back into her chair, letting it ebb away a bit, she rubbed her eyes. "I'm… sorry. I just… I didn't want them to see me like that."

He was looking down at her, "like what? Didn't want them to see you save Harry Potter's life?"

There was a odd note of concern and… what was that? He sounded as if he was making excuses for her. She looked at him, massaged the bridge of her nose and said at long last in her flat, alto voice. "You're protecting me."

"Certainly not."

She tilted her head to the side. This realization seemed to sober her a bit. Now she was feeling pretty bad about her actions, her comments, the state of her rooms, the state of her… hair. She made an attempt to run her fingers through it, but they caught and snagged and she hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I was enlightened today, about your grades in Transfiguration."

"What?"

"Professor McGonagall said you are an animagus."

"Oh… did she?"

He made some affirmative snort. "She said you could become a cat."

"Hmm, well… yes. I can become a cat." _Good call McGonagall._ She was guessing Snape could see her holding back but that was all she was owning up to at the moment.

His eyes were lingering on her face, then he sat down in front of her. "You didn't bother to go to the hospital wing I see."

She touched her face absently. 

He appraised her clinically with his eyes. "How does it feel?"

"Numb." She motioned to the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on a table nearby.

"Ah…."

"Perhaps I need a shower… and some coffee."

He moved back to let her get up.

"You can stay of course if you like, I'll only be a few minutes."

His eyes flicked over in the direction of her study, curious.

* * * * *

Glass shards 'crunched' under his feet as he stood there looking at the many potions before him. He selected one healing draught and set it aside, perhaps she had somehow overlooked this one. At this moment, his curiosity was piqued and although he stood there comparing himself inwardly to Miss Granger, he couldn't help but rummage through her things. 

But first. He drew his wand and cast a charm to clean up the rooms. Then continued perusing her collections. What a selection of books… he pulled one, 'Abnormal Psychology IV edition'… some sort of Muggle school book. 'The Schizophrenic Mind', 'Study of a Sociopath', 'The Archetypes and The Collective Unconscious, Collected Works of C.G. Jung Vol. 9'. He knew little about Muggle studies but he did recognize what psychology was… obviously Charlotte was absolutely fascinated by it. There was an entire bookcase dedicated to this alone. He moved on and found some magical and some Muggle books on herbs and explosive ingredients… _lovely_. 'The Norse Conquest', 'A Distant Mirror', by Barbara Tuchman, 'The Biography of Doc Holiday', 'Chronicle of the Pharaohs', 'Valley of the Kings', 'Egyptian Magic'…. He pulled that one. She had a lot of information on Egypt for some reason. 

Just as he settled down to read some of this text though, his hand fell upon another slender book setting haphazardly on her desk as if it had been thrown there. He glanced at the cover… it was a Hogwarts yearbook. The professor set down the spellbook and lifted the yearbook instead, he leafed through the first few pages… there were precious few signatures he noted. The staff… oh good heavens but he looked awful in that photo. He inwardly hoped Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley had not run across that as they ransacked Charlotte's rooms. For some reason there was a bookmark on that page. The bookmark was a page of potions notes from about fourteen years ago… he read it, it was… a healing draught, and true to her nature she had underlined every item that also had deadly consequences associated with it.

He arched his eyebrows.

Her bathroom door opened, and steam rolled out of the room. Clothilde emerged from the cloud, quite an entrance. She was wearing a black bathrobe, and curiously there was a white silk scarf wrapped around her throat. Her very long hair was still dripping wet and being a man he watched her cross the room trying to stop wondering what she looked like in the shower. His eyes focused on the long, slender legs that extended from her robe, just below the knee, they too were covered in beads of water. 

_'Doesn't she own a towel?'_ he thought bitterly, being reminded again of what she had just been doing.

She looked about then found him in her study area, "you cleaned up?"

Severus willed himself to look at a brain floating in some solution… "yes."

"Oh I was saving that, but thanks, it was a nice gesture."

He turned now quizzical.

Clothilde did not supply further explanation.

His face worked as he tried to decide what she was planning to do with all those shards of glass… unless, she still used explosives from time to time.

She seemed to be affirming his suspicions as they made eye contact. She made no excuses for her actions.

He decided to change the subject, "quite an impressive collection of potions you have here."

"Hmm… thank you. I've always been fascinated by potions."

He lifted a jar it's label read, 'Personality disorder; Border-line; Brain'. "I noticed you have quite a few Muggle books on psychology as well."

"Not so surprising is it?" She smiled warmly.

"Quite a lot of interesting material here actually. Nothing… about Transfiguration however."

"I suppose once you've mastered something that fascination ebbs away a bit." She lifted one of the vials lost in thought, "I guess that means I'll always have a huge supply of potions as I was virtually the Neville Longbottom of my Potions class."

"Oh, hardly Miss Malfoy."

She smiled at the sudden edge to his voice, this was a comment straight out of her own past. Nearly grinning she turned to find him very near her.

"You are far more gifted than Mr. Longbottom. And," he hissed, "although you have little talent for potion making, you are subtly gifted with the ability to hide your potions… in tea."

Her jaw dropped.

But he discontinued that thought and began discussing how practical her efforts against Voldemort could be. How her abilities could help to protect Harry and how he planned to defend her at the meeting very soon.

Irritated, brought back to the Christmas spent stealing vials from his lab eons ago she bristled. She didn't deserve his trust, his protection~

"If you knew everything about me you wouldn't be so eager to protect me~ or to trust me." She moved to get by him.

He caught her by the arm as she passed.

"Oh, let me alone."

"I spat out that _Forget _potion," he said curtly.

Her eyes widened, no… he couldn't have just said what she thought he'd just said. "What? You knew? And you never told anyone about the~"

"Theft. No."

But that's not all that it meant. She shrugged off his hand. "I, it was unforgivable. I have no idea why you would bother yourself with me now." She attempted to brush past him again but he moved a step to the left to block her exit.

They were very close and he was not certain how comfortable he was with the proximity of her body from his.

She took an uneasy step back nervously. He suddenly seemed, _very_ male blocking her escape and she was acutely aware she was wearing only a bathrobe. 

"Ironic you would choose to flippantly tell me I would do that sort of thing… poison _your_ coffee… or something?"

There was something very frightening, yet very arousing about the way he was slowly pushing her back against the wall menacing her. She decided she wasn't going to notice it right now. Instead she replied in her usual flat tone, "it was a hint."

He raised an eyebrow. "I realize that."

She unconsciously pulled her robe closed, then absently touched her scarf. His eyes followed.

"Did you think it would be funny to drug The Potions Master with potions? Honestly Charlotte, although you hid the smell, the instant I sipped my tea I knew what was in it."

"Ah…" she heard herself say faintly. She suddenly realized what he was saying… and looked directly into his eyes. He seemed to be amused, frozen in place before her. Long black hair falling to the top of his collar, long raven robes…. "You… played along with it?"

His eyes were fixed on hers, she found herself unable to move. His lips parted as if he would speak… nothing came out. 

The scene played itself out in her mind…laying on top of him, her tongue in his mouth begging him to kiss her… telling him how much she wanted him. She was momentarily horrified.

"I… thought," he said at last, "that, you would take the vials and leave."

"Well, that's what I did." She looked away.

Silence.

The professor was still watching her, uncertain, if she pretended nothing else had happened he would believe it himself. It really was one of the most unbelievable things that had ever happened to him. Eighteen year old girls didn't generally break into his lab to have their way with him. 

She began to remember, at the end he stopped fighting… she suddenly wondered how far things would have gone if she hadn't stopped it. Clothilde's eyes met his again, and now she eased a bit, raised an eyebrow and found something rather amusing. Well, that was a long time ago and her excuse was she was a teenager, what was his? What difference did it make anyhow? What right did he have to menace her? No, this was not the way things were going to transpire between them if they were to transpire. 

Clothilde's lip curved into a slight smile, this gave her a dangerous yet sensual expression. "Oh, I see now." 

There was no way another Slytherin was going to use his dastardly gentleman type approach on her, no matter how many times she might rerun this scene in her head for self stimulation purposes. "I think Severus, being that I am extremely… damp, you should see yourself out. I need to dry off and we both need to get ready to deal with some upcoming meeting as I understand it."

She also needed to roll this new information around in her head a couple more times… _he knew? He'd known for years?_ This put a whole new spin on that memory.

Snape's cool faltered a bit. This time he let her get past him. 

She moved across the room, but watched him as he crumpled a little… she hoped that hadn't utterly destroyed relations between them. 

He forced his lungs to work again, that was not the way he had expected things would go… although he'd been rejected before. Well, that was years ago… somehow he couldn't fully believe she hated him, the look on her face, the way her breath caught in her throat. He was confused. Perhaps it was just bad timing.

He swirled around to meet her. She was standing rather tall at the moment, defiant, holding the collar of her robe. Wow did he feel stupid. He wanted to inform her the meeting was this evening, that she would need to be ready in case they wanted to speak to her… he wanted to mention the healing draught set aside for her…. He wanted to make some sort of departing gesture, but he couldn't find his voice.

She watched him sweep out of her room gracefully, purposefully… not bothering to say 'goodbye'. 


	10. Clothilde Chapter 10

"Clothilde"

Chapter 10 "A feather of the phoenix"

__

Hanging by threads of palest silver

I could have stayed that way forever

Bad blood and ghosts wrapped tight around me

Nothing could ever seem to touch me

I lose what I love most

Did you know I was lost until you found me?

A stroke of luck or a gift from God?

The hand of fate or devil's claws?

From below or saints above?

You came to me

~"Stroke of Luck" Garbage

Clothilde stood before the bathroom mirror, appraising her face. Heavens she didn't realize it looked quite so badly… both of her eyes were black, her lip swollen and broken. _Where had she put that healing draught?_ She sauntered to the potions, there was a book of Egyptian magic lying open… she lifted it, it smelled of spice. Clothilde held it to her face for a moment, proof _he_ had been there. What if she'd let him corner her? What if she'd let him envelop her in his billowing robes?… The thought seemed to hang in the air… still tense from the things that had just taken place. He had just been there, things had been moving along smoothly enough… and then she had rebuffed his advances, and he had left without a word of goodbye. Part of her wished she hadn't done it. He looked so broken when she brushed from him… stooped and foolish. 

She wanted to speak to him when he turned… but what could she say? Thank him for being the only staff member on her side? Thank him for what he was about to do… or was about to do, speak in her defense at this… _meeting._ But she couldn't… it only registered in her brain that she was wearing a bathrobe, dripping wet… and he was telling her he knew everything that had transpired between them that Christmas years ago, in his lab. That he'd known what she had done at the time, that he had barely tasted the tea and was pretending to be in a weakened state… that she'd made a complete fool of herself. That she'd kissed the mouth of someone who knew exactly what she was doing, and had allowed her to do it to him. And, that he kept that memory. He had never told anyone about the theft… or apparently her incretions. 

She inhaled the smell of spice… same as it had been on his skin, under her lips. She thought of him, just minutes ago, the way he looked at her, so intense. Her chest began to burn with warmth, and a strange dizzying sensation swept through her. She'd escaped that scene of horror where she had left Macnair on his way to the hospital, Severus had walked her back to her quarters, there was blood on the soles of her boots. She left Harry, Ron and Hermione in the care of McGonagall, their faces were pale… their eyes were on her. She was so emotionally wrought she knew she needed a drink. The Potions Master had been very kind, she then proceeded to condemn herself in private, pouring whiskey down her throat. Wrecking havoc, no doubt, on her liver. 

Macnair… she should've killed him. Would've made things easier. Oh, awful thing to think, but now that he was alive… his life dangling on a thread, Poppy had no choice but to nurse him back to heath. Maybe she should take in on herself to finish him off? Oh, that's a thought… then the trio would really feel safe in her presence. 

She slid the book back on the shelf and tried to think clearly. Looking at her vials of potions, she had left the healing draught where she'd be able to find it, in the front row… it wasn't there. She searched again. Nothing. _What the hell did I do with it?_

* * * * *

Snape swept back into his rooms, his robes just barely making it into the room before the door closed behind him. He needed a shower… he needed to think about what he was going to say to the crowd of non-Slytherins at the meeting. He needed to figure out how best to defend her. He ripped off his robes, throwing them onto a chair. Dashing into the bathroom… he stopped, he saw his own reflection in the mirror. _Oh good lord he looked terrible._ No wonder she backed away, no wonder she was so horrified… what in the world had he been thinking? He tried to breathe… how was he going to face her again? 

He stepped into the shower, turned on the tap and pressed his forehead roughly against the rough hewn shower wall. This had been his first moment of peace since the Yule Ball, he was extremely tired… perhaps that's why he had chosen such an inappropriate time to drudge up the past. He had told himself only hours earlier he wouldn't… then exhausted he just let it slip out. 

The heat of the water felt wonderful on his skin scalding it, his hair clung to his face in long black tendrils… he thought of her. The list of _what ifs_ was lengthy in his mind. He had no idea if she was friend or foe any longer… the clear picture had vanished as quickly as it had begun to form. He wished he had never told her… it had all been due to fatigue he was certain. His breathing increased, the steam cascaded his pallid form…. She still looked so beautiful even with her face so battered, so strong… and proud. For a moment, just one, he thought… she wanted him to kiss her. 

He turned on the cold water, forcing himself into it with a gasp.

* * * * *

The Order of the Phoenix consisted of Professors, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, Snape and Hagrid. Along with Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron, Molly, Arthur and Bill Weasley, Madame Maxime, Arabella Figg, and Mundugus Fletcher. Though most of the staff were not for Voldemort they were also not actually involved in defeating him either. 

Snape came to the phoenix which led to Dumbledore's office, jerked his shirt down into place attempting to compose himself, ran fingers through his eternally, no-matter-how- many-times-you-wash-it, -it-still-seems-greasy, hair… and hissed out the password before he could stop himself. "Pumpkin pasties." _Pumpkin pasties indeed_… he thought as the stairs spiraled him upward.

"So the infamous Clothilde Corgan is actually a Malfoy hmm?" Sirius asked Harry.

"Do you know her?"

"No, we've never met." He pondered the whole thing for a moment. "Suppose Snape's going to try to defend her."

"Snape?!" Ron spat, "why would he? You should've heard the arguments they had in his class."

Sirius didn't have a chance to respond as the Potions Master himself was the last of the lot to enter. He was looking particularly gloomy, his raven black robes billowed about him as he surveyed the crowd. Nearly everyone was in attendance, they were only missing the three… Madame Maxime, Arabella Figg and Mundugus Fletcher. 

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "looks like we are all present now. I have called you all here to discuss the matter of Harry's bodyguard, Clothilde. Minerva feels this to be an issue worthy of a meeting. The issue of course is to decide if she should be reinstated or removed permanently. Minerva, I believe you wanted to say something?"

Professor McGonagall took a step forward. "Thank you Albus." She faced the crowd.

Snape took note of the room… everyone there was from the Gryffindor house, it was going to be difficult if not impossible to sway them to listen to him… especially since Minerva was going to speak against him and she was the head of that house. 

She related the series of events which led up to this very meeting, how she had had the duel with Macnair, defeated him with Dark Magic, a curse that Clothilde had apparently written herself, which did the nasty deed of _rupturing organs_, how this was all done in front of Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

"How can we trust her? She's been working as a mercenary for a decade, somehow she's managed to elude the Ministry of Magic and has been practicing all this time. Why she doesn't even have a diploma from Hogwarts… she's unpredictable, and very dangerous~"

"Yes. She _is_ very dangerous." Came Snape's voice, barely a whisper, but easily heard, he glanced around the room. His eyes met McGonagall's, then Lupin's, and Black's… irritably. He met the empathy and the defensive expressions. Snape's eyes next fell upon the trio and lingered there, arms folded, pacing the room. "Clothilde is dangerous," he continued, "like an incendiary waiting for the right opportunity to explode and devastate the offending party. Luckily for us," he hissed, "she has complete control over this. Luckily for us… she's on _our_ side, isn't it?"

The room was utterly silent, his voice had commanded the attention of the room as if he was standing in the potions class lecturing on the twelve uses of dragon's blood.

Harry stole a glace at Dumbledore who in turn was smiling fondly at Snape.

"She's from the Slytherin house isn't she?" Black said breaking the silence of the room. "Don't suppose that could be the reason you're speaking so passionately in her defense."

There was a note hanging in the air, that perhaps Sirius was hinting at more than her simply being a member of Slytherin.

Snape met Sirius' eyes with a cold look. "What area you getting at?"

Sirius folded his arms, "I am saying, you're defending her because she was once one of your own students."

There was some truth there Snape was unable to deny, luckily Black didn't know the half of it.

"Slytherin or not Clothilde Corgan should not only be reassigned her duties." He turned to face Dumbledore, "I believe she should be admitted to The Order of The Phoenix."

"Absolutely not!" It was Minerva.

The room was full of sudden murmuring.

Dumbledore motioned for them to _settle down_ and within a few moments the cacophony was silent again.

"Severus, please continue."

"How can Clothilde possibly do her job with any effectiveness without knowing _all_ of the facts? We would only deter her from protecting Mr. Potter if we did any less than admitting her."

"Corgan," Sirius began, "that's not her real name is it? She's a Malfoy. That family is associated with Voldemort."

Snape's eyes glittered dangerously, "she is a Malfoy, but I can assure you there is little love between her and the Malfoy family. Her mother is a Muggle, do you honestly believe she would be welcomed into a fold of Death Eaters?"

"Perhaps… as a spy."

That remark nearly sent Snape lunging at Black but Professor Dumbledore intervened.

"I do not believe she _is_ a spy Sirius. I trust her, as I trust you. Time is short and I have to agree with Professor Snape, she would be a powerful addition to our Order. She could help us defeat Voldemort for once and all."

"With the use of Dark Magic Albus?" Professor McGonagall sighed, "Professor Snape feels he failed her when she was a student here and is trying to make it up to her now, that is why he's defending her."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged quizzical looks. _What?_

"I certainly do not, Minerva, feel that I _failed_ her. She failed out of Hogwarts on her own merits. It is true, being the head of Slytherin house I did try to help Miss Corgan, but it was to no avail."

"And you wouldn't be trying to make up for that now."

"Forgive me, I did not realize I had a reputation for being partial to charities~ of any kind."

Minerva bristled slightly at his tone.

"Certainly…" he forced his voice to sound calm, "certainly, it is apparent what a benefit Clothilde would make working for us~"

"Rather than against?" Black finished the thought.

Snape fixed him with a displeased look as Sirius interrupted and continued not caring that he'd just done so.

"Everyone knows Clothilde Corgan, she's a wand for hire. She can be hired as a bodyguard…" he glanced at Harry warily, unsure if he should completely unmask Clothilde in front of him. Obviously they were friends of a sort, but he blundered on anyway. "Or, to… eliminate other people."

The trio paled at this implication.

Mrs. Weasley put an instinctive hand on Ron's shoulder.

Snape was unsure how he was going to argue his way around this one, but help suddenly came from an unlikely source.

"We all have a past Sirius," Remus said quietly, stepping forward. "In times dire as these we need to put aside our pasts and trust that although we may not all be in complete understanding of one another, we know for certain. We are all here to defeat the one common enemy."

'_Small miracles,'_ Snape thought to himselfwary not to feel entirely relieved just yet.

Then Lupin shot a thoughtful look at the Headmaster, who was smiling warmly in response.

"What is your opinion of Clothilde, Professor Dumbledore?"

The room quieted.

He looked over his moon-shaped spectacles, a warm twinkle in his eyes, "very tricky isn't she? The way she's managed to outsmart the Ministry of Magic for the last ten years now."

"Practicing magic without a license indeed," McGonagall muttered, though privately she couldn't help but agree that Fudge was an utter idiot.

"She… she saved my life," said Harry.

'_At last,' _ Snape sighed in relief, he hoped Potter would speak up. The little celebrity's voice alone could make his case.

"And mine," said Hermione.

Ron nodded agreeing that he had also benefited from her protection, violent as it may have been.

"I have always believed," Dumbledore smiled tenderly at Harry, "that it is the choices that make us _who_ we are…." 

Harry recognized the statement from something Professor Dumbledore had once said to him when he had wondered, in his second year, if he had been placed in the wrong house. What was the professor getting at? Clothilde was placed in the wrong house?… No, probably not that…. Perhaps he was saying, she had changed since then? Or, she was trying to change? Possibly both. Or maybe all he was getting at was, the fact that he wanted them to give her a second chance here at Hogwarts to redeem herself, for whatever reason.

Dumbledore nodded to Harry silently. A look of deep wisdom settled onto his face for a moment, then he lightened and offering everyone some sweets and tea, asked them to put the idea of reinstating her, and making her a member of The Order of The Phoenix, to a vote.

The nominations both passed.

* * * * *

Dark, shadowed eyes lifted to the sea of faces before her. She looked the part of a valkyrie, just as Hermione had once said. Tall, thin, blonde… her hair, a mane, a gladius hanging at her side. Her face was broken from the infamous fight hours ago. She was stoic about it.

"You haven't been to the hospital wing my dear?" Dumbledore said knowingly.

She considered the amount of alcohol she'd consumed not all that long ago, and surmised flatly, "I'm fine, although I am certain my liver will pay for it in the end."

Sirius snorted in understanding from somewhere within the crowd.

Somehow, she had been found not-guilty, and returned to her position… somehow she was now being accepted into The Order of The Phoenix, a situation only minutes ago made clear to her by Professor Dumbledore. Quite an honor. She would be there to help defeat Voldemort. Somehow…. Her eyes fell on Harry's and she smiled.

There was something very Malfoy in her countenance… the typical blonde, pale, gray eyes… and something at could pass for arrogance.

Harry had never noticed it until now, she did, in a way remind him of Lucius. The way she flicked her eyes up, confidently surveying the room as she sauntered in. As if she was supposed to be black and blue and it was exactly the look she was going for when she dressed. Then she searched the room looking for him, and when their eyes met her icy facade melted and she smiled, warmly, like a mother very happy to see him alive and safe. That was the non-Malfoy part of her, a protective knowing, open-minded part that accepted people for who they were.

All the terrible things he heard about her during the meeting, the… violent duel he had replayed in his mind a hundred times, although these did not vanish from his mind, he saw her in a clearer light now. There was more to her than dreadful rumors, or some unlikely last name. There was more than the fact that she had failed her NEWTs and that she had once been part of Slytherin. 

He felt other eyes on him now and turned to find Dumbledore, a twinkle of knowing in his eyes.

Then Clothilde saw the head of the Slytherin house, swept up, nearly hidden, a shadow in an arm-chair behind the others. Their eyes met. He had resurrected her, fought on her behalf… she could see it in his eyes. Exhausted, slightly tense, trying to relax and be left alone. He was hiding in the crowd.

Two now. Two Slytherin among them… two, fighting the good fight. This seemed to be the thought that was resounding from both of them as their eyes met.

_'I won't let you down,'_ is was she wanted to tell him but in the press of the crowd she couldn't. She could only mouth the words, "thank you."

Severus nodded hesitantly in acknowledgement.


	11. Clothilde Chapter 11

"Clothilde"

Clothilde Part II

The Temptation of Voldemort

Chapter 11 "Quidditch"

Macnair lay unconscious in the hospital bed at St. Mungos. He had stayed long enough at Hogwarts for Madam Pomfrey to stabilize him, and cast for Snape to cast _obliviate_. Macnair was still an employee of the Ministry of Magic, and the number of dangerous creatures for him to dispose of was really building up. There were questions to be answered of course. Fudge himself had journeyed to Hogwarts, receiving a chilly reception from the staff there, to try and discover how this could've possibly happened to such an upstanding citizen as Macnair… and, what magic could've caused something so horrible to happen to him. Dumbledore didn't recognize the magic himself, which had been a surprise to Fudge, he assumed Albus to be lying. Covering up for whomever _had_ done such a dark thing certainly didn't sound like the Headmaster though. Dumbledore said it had happened outside of the school grounds and Macnair had been found lying in a field. It was hard to imagine the school's Headmaster would lie but, then again after the last conversation they had had, when Dumbledore tried to convince him Voldemort had returned… well, who knew what the man was thinking anymore. He was getting a bit old… probably going senile.

The dark mark on Macnair's arm burned… black… his master awaited his immediate return, but none was forthcoming. Voldemort waited wondering what exactly had happened to this particular henchman… he recognized the memory spell, he _knew_ Macnair's mind had been wiped clean. He didn't know what this meant however. But, certainly nothing he was terribly worried about, after all… after all, he had his spies. He would know what was going on soon enough.

* * * * *

Quidditch… there were times when Clothilde didn't know how in the name of heaven she was going to protect Harry, or where she should sit. She chose to join Hermione, and simply watch Professor Snape from her position in the stands. It would probably drive him nuts anyhow… and she sort of enjoyed irking him. 

She had never played Quidditch herself on the Slytherin team, and she had never come to support her household at the game when she was in school, she spent her time sulking. She did play as part of Hooch's class from time to time, she could enjoy the aspect of having a bat… and of throwing the bat at the other players, that was fairly fun. She got pretty good at that as well. Although that was obviously a foul. But, the whole "team spirit" thing… well, she just couldn't pull that out of her hat. Clothilde probably lost more house points for Slytherin in her years at Hogwarts than any other single student… ever. 

She glanced over at the Slytherin stand… Severus looked up at Draco who was shooting by so fast, only the streak of green and the platinum blonde told her who it could be. Nimbus 2004s…. The professor looked up suddenly, because he had been looking at her, in the Gryffindor stand. She smiled to herself at this realization, feeling like she was sixteen again, if only for a moment. She had felt so much frustration and anger in her life, a little stupid happy sensation was welcome. As she began to look away herself, she noticed Snape had Lucius Malfoy sitting beside him. 

He was her brother. A much older brother granted… about fifteen years. She had met him a couple times, when she was attending Hogwarts, their father had requested she visit him at his estate. She had been the child of an affair after Clovis' first wife had died rather suddenly. Clovis kept a photo of her in his study, to hide it away from the rest of his family she assumed… but still, he had one. 

When she had met Lucius all those years ago, he was curt with her, arrogant. She was his only sibling, and a half blood at that. Clovis had kept things civil, but that was all. He was a polished, sarcastic ass, and she was an aggressive, sarcastic bastard. They didn't get along very well at that time. She doubted he had ever even told Draco he had an aunt… the way the rumors flew at Hogwarts, she wondered when the boy would discover it himself. That not only was his aunt not pureblood… but she was Harry Potter's bodyguard. Oh, that would be one he could write home about. 

But there Lucius sat, in velvet black, his long beautiful platinum blonde hair so striking against that expensive coat. The silver clasps at each shoulder, nearly looked like a Celtic snake shining in the occasional sunlight. He outshone the Potions Master beside him without even trying… unless of course, you fancied the Potions Master. 

She caught Severus looking at her again, but this time he met her eyes… her lip curled up into a warm, playful smile.

She doubted Lucius would even recognize her if he did see her. She had changed her name, using her middle and mother's maiden name now as the identity she'd held since she became an Auror. This idea was her father's actually, because she had failed out of Hogwarts and had her wand snapped, her father thought she might be able to change her name and he would simply slip her in to the Ministry of Magic. They fabricated NEWTs from Hogwarts with the name Clothilde Corgan on it. The paperwork went through, and they created a license for Clothilde Corgan to practice magic. He never realized Charlotte Malfoy was so good at Transfiguration she could herself transform however, that had been one big secret she kept from everyone… but McGonagall, who it seemed was still keeping it. She hadn't told Snape the whole truth, but she knew enough that she didn't want her to be part of The Order of The Phoenix either, Clothilde knew. Because this made her quite a bit more dangerous. After Voldemort had been "defeated" by one, Harry Potter, she had been let go by the Ministry, they claimed it was for _ruthlessness_, she was in fact, no more ruthless than any of the other Aurors, as far as she could tell. Still, she was a Malfoy… no one wanted to be associated with the Malfoy family at that point. They fired her, and revoked her license to practice magic, took back the wand she had been using, sent her packing… she was quite on her own at that point. That's when things really started to get sketchy. She returned to the Muggle world for a time, lived with her mother in New York, she used her skills with poison there… she made some money. She traveled, she lived in Arizona. She visited other countries, she visited Egypt… she made a startling discovery which she knew could bring her back to the world she loved most… to the people she wanted to make the most miserable as well. She found a way to make her invisible to the Ministry of Magic. She returned to her life in the magical world… she lived on Knockturn Alley. She slowly began to pull herself out of the disaster she'd made of her life.

Lucius… probably had no idea what had become of her. Clovis probably thought she had died. He never again tried to help her… although she liked to believe that some part of him actually _loved_ his half Muggle daughter.

"Does… Professor Snape expect you to be sitting with Slytherin?" Hermione began tentatively, from behind her large binoculars.

Clothilde raised an eyebrow. "No, I don't think so. Why?"

"Well then… I think he must like you. He… he's had his eye on this stand more than on the Quidditch match the entire game."

She smiled. "Hmm… well, perhaps he doesn't like Quidditch."

"Uh huh…" Hermione said teasingly.

"I think he's too old for that sort of behavior, don't you?"

"Oh please."

Clothilde laughed warmly, as she turned to watch Harry again.

* * * * *

She followed Hermione onto the field after Mr. Potter had caught the snitch, she had thought it a rather brilliant moment, and the crowds all had been wild with excitement… well, most of the crowd, she thought fleetingly of Severus's expression. But, apparently this was commonplace at the school. Harry caught the snitch on a regular basis. 

"Harry, Ron!!" Hermione ran over to them, "great job both of you!"

Ron made an attempt at hugging Hermione which she half shook off in an attempt to hug Harry. Harry didn't pay much attention to this, he was beside himself after catching the snitch. He turned to Clothilde. 

"Were you watching?"

"Of course. Great catch Harry."

He beamed.

After Ron recovered his dignity from having Hermione brush him off he smiled a bit, "trounced those old Slytherin." Then realizing what he'd said he looked at Clothilde, "uhh, no offense."

She smirked. "Party in Gryffindor tower I'm guessing?"

Ron's face lit up, "yeah."

They began their walk back to the school through the slush.

"Did you ever play? Quidditch I mean?" Harry asked quietly as they walked across the field.

"Only in Hooch's class."

"What position?"

"Oh, as a beater," her face looked darkly amused as she said it.

"Oh."

As they walked through a crowd of people someone slammed right into her shoulder and spun her around… although she did not fall. She turned. It was Lucius.

"Do you look where you're going?" He demanded. Severus had been walking with him, he also turned to see what his _friend_ was so distraught about. "Look what you've done."

His coat had been caught her shoulder plates as they had collided, causing the rivets to catch and rip his very expensive ensemble.

"Hmm… looks like a _reparo_ spell is in order." She glanced over at Harry just to make sure this hadn't been a rouse to snatch him. He was standing next to her.

"Oh… so you must be Harry Potter's bodyguard." He looked at her, she seemed vaguely familiar. "How _does_ one get into that line of work one wonders." His voice held that same delightful distain it always had. So shallow she nearly rolled her eyes at the sound of it.

"I suppose one would first have to be rather handy at…" she glanced at Severus, "bashing people."

"Indeed." 

Professor Snape met her with a rather icy expression.

"Come on team, I think we were about to go back to Gryffindor tower, where we will be _celebrating_ our victory?"

Their faces brightened as they remembered that was where they had been heading. She glanced back at Lucius, and smiled at him as well as they departed.

* * * * *

"He's sure not a cheery sort that one," Ron was saying back in the tower. 

"Well, he's Draco's father what do you expect?" Hermione was settling into a game of exploding Snap. 

Harry moved away from the party and toward Clothilde for a moment, she was sitting in the window, eating a pumpkin pasty, content.

"Clothilde?"

"Yes Mr. Potter?"

"Oh… please no, you sound like Professor Snape."

"Do I?" She popped the rest of the treat into her mouth, she couldn't help but think of him. 

"I know you're a Malfoy…. Do you… know Lucius?"

"Yes I know him."

She wasn't exactly making this very easy for him, but then again he hadn't expected she would. "How?"

"You know how Harry. Why are you bothering to ask? He's my brother."

Ron suddenly seemed to have some sort of extra-sensory hearing, because although the party was going on full blast behind them, he choked when she said it.

"Draco's your nephew?"

"That's right."

"This doesn't exactly make things easy on you does it?" Hermione was suddenly right next to Harry as if she'd been in the conversation all along.

"Sorry," Harry uttered to her, because everyone seemed to have heard what he was saying.

"I suppose it would've come up at some point regardless." Clothilde took another pastry then glanced at the three, "is this one safe?"

Ron nodded. 

"Why wouldn't it make things easy on me?"

"Well, because Harry and Draco are rivals."

"Ah," she bit into the chocolate covered cookie, waiting to see if she would suddenly sprout feathers. "I don't see why that's a problem. Besides, we don't know each other." 

They were all staring at her silently expecting more information to come there way, she rolled her eyes and continued. "Look, I was raised by my mother, a Muggle… my father… Lucius' father barely acknowledged my existence. Lucius didn't even recognize me earlier did he? Draco doesn't even know he has an aunt. Now, have I satisfied your curiosity? Am I done being grilled? Or are you going to break out the rubber hoses?"

"Huh?" Ron muttered.

"Never mind Ron," Hermione turned back to her game of exploding Snap, with a fleeting glance at Clothilde that told her to change the password of her painting in the near future or she would find her rooms ransacked some other day in the very near future.

Harry remained. "I know what that's like. To be part of a family who doesn't really like you."

She smiled at him, "well, I think I have had it easier than you at any rate Harry. From what you've said about the Dursleys… at least I always had a home to go to, a mother who cared. Why don't you live with Sirius? You said he's your Godfather."

"Yeah, but he's a wanted man still."

"That's a problem."

"Clothilde?…"

"Yes Harry," she knew she probably wasn't going to enjoy this question.

"In Dumbledore's office, Professor McGonagall said Snape felt he had failed you when you went to school here… what did she mean by that? Was he the head of Slytherin when you were here?"

"Hmm… yes. You saw his photo in the yearbook."

"Well, do you think he spoke for you at the meeting because he felt he failed you?"

"He… he spoke for me?" She thought he had but until now she hadn't been certain. She couldn't hide her smile, "probably because I was in Slytherin."

Harry just watched her for a minute but didn't say anything more. He uttered something about playing chess with Ron. She got the distinct impression they were about to be up to something again in the very near future, and groaned to herself. He was making it awfully difficult to guard him.

* * * * *

Up to this point she had not endured the ordeal of _tea with Hagrid_ but the three had mentioned it, and she knew it was some sort of ritual she would be forced to endure. She remembered Hagrid from her days here as well… she hoped he did not remember her. She had once left a rotten fish on the roof of his hut, it stayed there for days apparently before he realized it was up there… she'd been dared to do it by someone in Slytherin. They knew she'd be brave, and dumb enough to do it. She had had detention with Hagrid for a solid week afterward. Not the most pleasant experience of her life. It was pretty mean too… and he was such a jovial person she actually felt bad after she'd done it. But… it _was_ a dare.

Hagrid opened his door beaming as he saw them. "Well then, come on in… Harry, Hermione, Ron… an' Charlotte Malfoy~"

That inner _doh_ pounded in her head for an instant. Her own brother hadn't recognized her and yet… Hagrid had.

"Sit down, sit down everyone and have some tea." He grinned at her for a minute, "well, didn't you always worry you was gonna end up with Filch's job? Looks like you did a might' bit better fer yerself after all."

"Uhh… thanks Hagrid."

"Do you two, know each other?" Asked Hermione.

Hagrid grinned at the dire look on Clothilde's face, that was telling him not to go into it. "Ah, of course of course we know each other… I was the gameskeeper here when she went to school. Very good duelist if I remember correctly."

Her face registered shock.

"You was Professor Snape's favorite at the time," he said fondly.

Ron really looked horrified. They had the Draco Malfoy of ten years ago as the companion they couldn't get rid of. 

"Uhh… is that pound cake?" She attempted probably more horrified than Ron if that was possible.

If Hagrid had ever wanted to get back at her he'd managed it rather well, although since he was a very good natured person she highly doubted that was actually part of some devious plan. In all likelihood she'd just had a karmic moment. 

* * * * *

"Harry you can't possibly be thinking of sneaking out after what just happened with that man, that Death Eater sent here for…" Hermione's voice trailed off, not wanted to think about why that man had been in Hogwarts.

"I know." He said quietly as they sat in a huddle together at the window seat of the common room, "but I need some time without a bodyguard hanging around."

"I like Clothilde."

"Ruddy Malfoy…" Ron muttered. 

"Ron." He said annoyed, then lightened his tone to answer her, "I like Clothilde too, but wouldn't you like to be without her for a little while Hermione? Visit Hogsmeade without her tagging along?"

Hermione wavered, she really would enjoy that but she was worried about Harry. "Well," she said at last, "only if you wear your invisibility cloak."

"Fine."

"All right then, it's settled. This Saturday, while she's asleep."


	12. Clothilde Chapter 12

"Clothilde"

Chapter 12 "The Nephew"

It was raining… weekends always caused inner turmoil for her, because she didn't get much chance to sleep. She had to make certain Harry was safe. On every Friday she forced herself to stay awake for twenty-four hours so she would be exhausted enough to sleep a few hours at night, then she could be awake to protect Harry during the day on Saturday. It was Friday… she was exhausted. They were enjoying Arithmancy, she was a crumpled form sitting at the top of a staircase on the third floor, it slowly swung round to connect with another floor every few minutes. 

She was contemplating… hmm, what had she been contemplating? Okay, she was staring off into space actually, that generally happened after she had been awake too long, hallucinations would not be far off. 

Clothilde lifted her head and was surprised to see a boy standing at the bottom step looking up at her. Silently. Fixing her features in his mind apparently. She was reminded of "The Omen", for a confused moment. 

"Do you know who I am?"

"Let's see," she studied him exhaustedly for a moment, "platinum blonde hair, top of the line apparel, haughty over-zealous demeanor to cover up the fact that you really aren't so sure of yourself yet, hmm, you must be a Malfoy." This cutting remark was combined with a twisted yet oddly warm smile. She was definitely Slytherin….

"There's a rumor in school that you're Charlotte Malfoy."

She met his eyes. 

"If you are a Malfoy why are you guarding that, Potter?" he spat out Harry's name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Why not?"

Draco appraised her, long haphazard blonde hair spilling down over her shoulders and falling into her lap. She was folded up, her head in her hands as if something was troubling her.

"Who's side are you on anyway?"

Her lip curved into a bit of a twisted smile, but a knowing lightness remained there as if she felt she was talking to some younger version of herself.

"Who's side do you think I'm on?"

"Don't toy with me Mudblood, give me an answer."

"Make me," she hissed.

This, was not the answer he expected. She was sort of like his family… a bit sarcastic, a bit tricky but there was something almost explosive about her as well. She had spent her life hated by everyone who wasn't Slytherin and rejected by the family she belonged to as well. Turns a person a bit upside down when faced with this situation…. Draco was intrigued.

"Are you my aunt then?"

"Is Lucius your father? I am his half sister."

Draco knew his father could not stand the idea he even had a half Muggle sister and though his grandfather had mentioned her name on rare occasion he knew better than to ask his father any questions about her. And now, here she was… he had secretly hoped he would someday get a glimpse of her, just for the sake of curiosity.

"Who's side are you on anyway?" His voice was a bit lower, and not so sarcastic.

"My own." She said soberly and continued, "if I were in your position Draco, I would take this side as well."

He looked at her distastefully for a moment, "is that advice from a Mudblood?"

"Technically it's advice from your aunt, the half Muggle."

He took one last look at her as if considering what she'd said… and the fact that his grandfather was, in his old age, fond enough of his half Muggle daughter that her photo was at his estate. Draco turned and left.

* * * * *

The potions room was empty and dark when she glimpsed in to see if anyone was at home, the door was open, Clothilde crept in. She smiled at the familiar jars of… things, floating within. Potions ingredients that she did not fathom how to make work. Instead she bought what she needed, which is how she happened to have the vials on hand that she did now. Slowly she pulled them from her pouch and set them, one by one in a row on his desk. A replacement for the ones she'd taken so long ago. 

Smiling, she turned on heel and began to leave.

"Who is there?"

_Icy tone._

She looked back over her shoulder as the professor came into the classroom from his office. She should've known. Not like he was going to be hanging around chatting up Hooch about Quidditch or something. 

His eyes met hers, glittering. "Ah, Miss… Corgan, is there something I can~" 

He saw the vials.

She turned now, her face steady, a bit playful. "Thought I'd return those."

He went to them, touching each one slightly to read it, and was once again returned to that day in the office… only a few steps away. "That was a very long time ago, I have replaced my stock by now."

She smirked, "should I take them back?"

He lifted his head defiantly to look at her, his hair tumbled into his eyes. "This will do, thank you Mis~ Clothilde."

"I… don't think I had the opportunity to thank you for defending me."

"One Slytherin to another, that is all."

His icy tone did not stop her from smiling warmly at him, she was amused as usual. 

"You look fatigued. Where are Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and that Weasley boy, you are generally glued to?"

She sauntered forward several steps, toying with the cauldrons set up on the tables as she passed them. Then looked up at him when she was finally at the front of the room. "They are," she pulled out Harry's schedule, "hmm… in Care of Magical Creatures, at the moment. I am a bit tired… I've been awake for about twenty-one hours now."

"Well, I thank you for returning these."

"I was hoping you would offer me coffee and keep me awake for a while in truth."

His mouth parted slightly, his black eyes stared at her intensely… did this mean they were still friends? "Would you like to have some coffee? I believe you take yours with absinthe?"

"Yes, that's right…" she followed him into his office, "and you take yours with _suggestion_."

He halted. She nearly ran into him.

"Just a joke."

"In impeccably bad taste."

Severus turned around, she had to take a step back they were so close.

"Perhaps I'm too tired to talk."

The coolness of the room swept around her… the smell of the potions office, spice, and crushed flowers… the little porthole windows were covered with rain. 

She was so close to him now.

"I'm… sorry professor, you know I was only teasing."

He stalked over to the fire casting something, which she assumed conjured coffee up. He seemed so annoyed that she believed he may have actually dosed her with poison. She hesitated to drink it. Instead sat holding it between her hands, warming herself, listening to the rain against the windows.

Snape sat across from her, coffee mug between his hands. "Was there something in particular you wanted to say?"

She woke from her daze, "well… not really. I think I'm too tired to put rational thought into any idea."

"If I'm not mistaken, Miss Corgan, you did say you were here to be made coherent by means of caffeine and idle _chit-chat."_

She smiled, "well, that could've been a last minute impulse after seeing you."

_Oh yes, women always felt that way after running into him in the dungeons._ He stared at her again, he had to stop doing that.

"Although I have stopped myself prior to this, I'm just going to plunge right in and ask, so, what have you been up to for the last… fourteen years?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Teaching here."

"Yes, but other than that."

"There is no _other than that_ Miss Corgan," he said irritably. "I spend time teaching, and I have several potions side-projects which I do research on, and obtain grants for Hogwarts with." 

"Oh."

He watched her sip her coffee tentatively, her face was now clear of all bruising, "you found the _healing draught_ I set aside for you."

"You're the one who moved that. I wondered. Yes, I finally found it."

He looked at the floor, his eyes slowly moving up her body until he met her, looking back at him. A tendril of black hair falling in his face. It didn't really matter what she was saying anymore, he could barely stand to be in the same room with her these days, he felt his lungs take in air mingled with an odd sweet sensation. 

That gesture had not gone unnoticed by her. She forced herself to breathe… now, air intake not that difficult. 

The Potions Master stood, and moved toward his racks of ingredients suddenly, fluidly… why anyone could not be engrossed in someone that graceful, and sure of himself she could not imagine. She was not able to swallow her coffee and so she simply set it down on his desk. 

"Perhaps… this." He offered her a shining vial. 

She loved those things. On the side it read _Awaken. _Now why hadn't she thought of that?

"Thank you." She half expected it to be _Suggestion_, but drank it anyhow, with the experience of someone who was used to swallowing a shot in one gulp.

Severus sat down opposite her, his hair and robes whirling in unison as he settled into place. Weightlessly agile. He folded his hands in front of him, and waited.

Within seconds it worked into her system. She woke. "I guess Muggle society has worn off on me a bit."

"Clearly."

He was suddenly a bit more over-the-top than he had seemed in her exhausted stupor. She felt the rapid need to put her guard back up.

"I must've been quite unbearable for you to have~"

"Perhaps I am just more thoughtful than you believe."

Her face warmed, "I happen to _know_ you're thoughtful. I remember you taking me aside, teaching me to duel. Do you?"

He pulled his robe around him briskly, "of course."

She smirked at a sudden idea, "you should duel me again sometime."

His mind raced back to Macnair lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor. He arched an eyebrow, and met her eyes. "You obviously no longer _need_ to practice."

Clothilde nearly laughed, "I _always_ need more practice. What's the matter? Not scared are you?" 

For a moment… just a transitory moment, she reminded him completely of Draco. He let that thought pass as quickly as possible. 

"I promise you, I will not rupture your internal organs."

He pursed his lips in aversion. 

She wondered, if he had _any_ idea how really pretty he looked when he did that. Doubtful. _'He thinks he looks imposing'._ She grinned at him now, really excited at the idea.

"Come on Severus, duel me."

He started at the sound of his given name on her lips.

She laughed. 

"Perhaps."

"Alright." She smiled, and sipped her coffee. 

He couldn't suppress his amusement, instead tried to hide it in his own coffee. His mind was filtering out possible hexes and charms he could hit her with, his repertoire was obviously much larger than hers. She knew mainly curses that could maim him. _That's a lovely though, _he shuddered. 

As if she was reading his mind she said, "I wonder what I'll have to throw at you… hmm, you see this is why I have to practice."

"They should start up another dueling club."

"I'm surprised they don't have one anymore."

"Too dangerous I suppose."

His eyes flicked up at her, her hair, which was dark blonde, half shadowed in his darkened room, heart shaped face… lips that were delicately curved, but right now they were slightly parted. Up into her very large eyes… which were staring back into his. The playfulness had vanished. 

"Perhaps we should speak to the Headmaster about dueling sometime, set up some sort of a display… maybe he would… consider the idea of…."

"Yes?"

He stood up and crossed the room, pressing the palm of his hand against the cool windowpane as if it would cool this longing. 

She rose, and moved toward him. Her eyes followed his tall pale form, swathed in black crepe, the slightest hint of white ruffles at his collar and wrists… he really was stunning. And dark. And… complex. 

She tilted her head to the side a bit, "what?"

"I _will_ duel you." He turned to look at her taking up her challenge, as if it was really to be a challenge and not play at all.

Her face brightened, "wonderful. I'm so glad I decided to visit."

He seemed once more impassive, nearly icy. 

She smiled warmly at him. "I'm going to enjoy besting the one who trained me."

"You think so?" There was a hint of warning in his voice. She knew this wasn't going to be that easy, he wasn't exactly a push-over… it was Snape after all, she'd have to keep her wits about her. 

She looked at him defiantly, a slight smirk on her face as she was striding out of the potions lab, "of course. I am the _best_."

"Perhaps while you were in school here _Miss _Malfoy, but I am your opponent this time around."

She was going to enjoy this. She sneered at him, "Huh uh."

He watched her saunter out, her armor jingling…. Obviously he had done little to defuse her confidence…. Some practice was in order, who knew when she was going to formally challenge him.


	13. Clothilde Chapter 13

"Clothilde Part II"

Chapter 13 "A Day in Hogsmeade"

The sun came streaming into the window, for a moment the woman wasn't sure where she was, what day it was, who she was…. Constant travel left her like this quite often. Plus, there was that added confusion because the Gryffindor common room really didn't look anything like the places she generally found herself. She woke to the sun blinding her, on a very comfortable sofa… and Peeves, snoring loudly.

"You…" she grimaced as she sat up, half blind in the bright light, "Dumbledore didn't throw you out?"

"A Slytherin in the Gryffindor's nest…" he crackled, "the Bloody Baron's best, in Godric Gryffindor's nest, Baron's best, Baron's best!!"

"Ack," she rolled off the sofa as Peeves floated out the wall shrieking. "Baron's best… sounds like some sort of crispy chicken or something." She checked her Muggle watch; nine in the morning… "hmm… awfully quiet for nine AM." 

She trudged up the steps to Harry's dormitory, not really a prospect she enjoyed… looking in on fifteen year old boys, but it was late. She was used to being awaken by everyone going to breakfast, or Hermione shaking her… but nothing this morning. Odd.

Rows and rows of beds, she went to Harry's. "Harry?" Nothing, no movement. "Harry?" She asked slightly louder this time much to the chagrin of a lazy few who remained. Nothing still. She drew back a curtain tentatively… nothing! 

Clothilde raced out of the room and burst into the boy's bathroom, which did not please many of the people inside… but, still, there was no Harry Potter to be found. Back to the boy's dormitory, no Ron either…. No Hermione was to be found in the girl's dormitory. 

She dashed through the halls down to the great hall, scanning the room for her charge. Only a gaggle of Gryffindor students to be found. She moved toward Neville, and sidled up next to him. He was engrossed in talking to the boy next to him.

"Mr. Longbottom," she hissed.

He spun around to face her.

Clothilde had her chin propped up with a hand, she smiled at him. 

"Oh… it's you, for a minute I thought~"

"Neville," she said seriously, "do you know where Harry is?"

"Uhh… no?"

Something about that answer didn't exactly sound believable so she pushed on. "Do you know where Ron is?"

"Uhh… I don't want to get them in trouble."

_Not a promising response. Please tell me they did not leave the school grounds. Please tell me they did not leave the school grounds._

He moved a little nearer, and whispered. "Ron said something about he and Hermione going into Hogsmeade."

Her smile drooped. 

"But don't tell them I said that."

"Yeah, well, where do the three of them generally like to hang out?"

* * * * *

_"Honeydukes,"_ Severus Snape muttered, as he passed the throng of students, wound up from trying all the free samples of… sugar they could get their hands on. His robes swished around them, surprised to see the Potions Master, they pulled from him. A sea parted before him. 

He was the one gothic figure in the golden town of Hogsmeade. It was pleasant enough there he supposed, although obviously things would be better without any crowds, any students on a sugar high. He remembered his school days. He remembered the first time he tried sugar-spun quills, they seemed such a waste of time though, he spent time actually trying to copy down notes in class… he wasn't going to end up stuck in a dead-end town like this… or as some moth-eaten professor, like his potions master. No, he was destined for big things… great things. Although, the "Quality Quidditch Supplies" store was an old haunt. Which would probably come as some great surprise to his classes these days, he once was a boy after all… he once was alive. 

Hissing, he managed to get past a small huddled group of people who had just recognized each other… in the middle of the street of course, and for some reason decided to remain there catching up utterly heedless of everyone else who might decide to want to walk on the path. Luckily he was rail thin. He had never had to put up with this when he worked for Voldemort. People quaked in fear of him back then. Of course, that being one of the only enjoyable aspects he would settle for terrifying his students, working as a moth-eaten professor at Hogwarts, and dealing with idiots like this in Diagon Alley. Better than going along with Voldemort's dream of murdering half the population at any rate. Though, if he had perhaps Severus wouldn't be forced to suffer these fools on a lovely day like today.

He rounded the corner, ah yes, here he was "Madam Malkins Robes For All Occasions"… he wondered if _this_ was one of those occasions. Generally he ordered his robes by owl post. Fighting the urge to hesitate in the doorway as he heard the booming voice of an older woman inside telling someone how adorable he or she looked, he blundered onward. Into the unknown. 

* * * * *

Clothilde moved through Hogsmeade, annoyed that the trio had attempted this so soon after Harry nearly meeting an early demise only a few weeks ago now. The February snow was slush under her boots, she wished the rain had taken it all away, perhaps now that the sun was out it would melt away. She was afraid for Harry too… this was a real danger, obviously Voldemort had a mind to kill him, and outside of the protection of Hogwarts she was the only cannon fodder between he and the dark lord. She had to find him. It was kind of a treat getting outside Hogwarts for a while however… being stuck there all the time could make one a little stir crazy.

Maybe that was why Snape was so constantly irritable? She grinned. No, probably not. She assumed he probably had a host of other things on his mind. Like would Voldemort get wise and discover his deception? Would someone in the Order of The Phoenix ever be caught and forced to spill their guts? Would she? Now that was a lovely thought on a nice day like this. She couldn't help but wonder though, especially when the likelihood of her being caught became more and more possible with Harry pulling brilliant stunts like this on a regular basis. Well, she'd been honored when Dumbledore had owled her weeks ago now, to protect "Harry Potter"….

Miss Clothilde Corgan

Wand for Hire

Room with the Noisiest Gutters

13 Knockturn Alley Upper

Hogsmeade

…she had been shocked, pleased…. He had stopped Voldemort. He was the savior of the magical community, and she, she was being asked to be his bodyguard. To throw herself in front of the first firebolt thrown in his direction. Who wouldn't be honored? However… she just hadn't realized how much trouble some teenaged wizarding sleuths could be.

* * * * *

"'Flourish and Blotts'? Hermione honestly you might as well be in the library at school," Ron sighed.

"I'm thirsty, let's go get a butterbeer," came a quiet voice from out of nowhere.

Hermione shot a dark look in the direction of nothing. "Honestly both of you, I endured the Quidditch shop for over an hour, I want a look around the bookstore before we eat."

They followed her down Diagon Alley to look at… books. As if they didn't do this enough at school.

* * * * *

Severus Snape thumbed through the cases of magical tombs, the ancient Egyptian magic section was under lock and key, he asked it be opened so he could peruse it. It had been a long time since he had been in town, might as well see what "Flourish and Blotts" had to offer.

There was one in particular about magical Egyptian symbols he found quite fascinating. Pretty pricey as well. Although, without really going into town too much he certainly could afford it this one time. "Borgin & Burkes" might have it as well… probably from the black market, probably much cheaper… then again, did he really want to venture down Knockturn Alley? 

The sound of a familiar voice startled him~

"History of the Muggles Hermione? Why would you want to read about it? You grew up a Muggle… you have that advantage."

Ron Weasley.

_Hmm, that meant of course, Potter couldn't be too far behind… and Charlotte._

"It's interesting to read it from the wizarding point of view, they really look at Muggle society from an entirely different standpoint… well, you should understand Ron."

"We've been in here a while," came the hushed voice of Harry, "I am really getting hungry now. Can we go soon Hermione?"

"Oh all right."

Snape could hear the three of them departing… _three?_ Where was Charlotte? He glanced around the bookcase. He _saw_ Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger… but no Potter, and that could mean one thing, and one thing only. The invisibility cloak. His mouth twisted up into a dangerous smile. He set the book back in it's case and followed. What in the world could Potter be thinking? He had been strictly forbidden from leaving Hogwarts after the Macnair incident, and without his bodyguard nonetheless…. Snape derived much pleasure at the thought of catching Potter in the act of breaking school rules. 

* * * * *

"Look out," Hermione and Ron slid into the backround as the deep blue velveteen cloak came into sight, long blonde hair swaying as the figure searched the crowd for someone. 

"That was close," Ron muttered as he focused once more on his butterbeer.

"This feels really wrong to me."

"She's just a Malfoy," Ron sipped his beverage.

"Miss Granger… Mr. Weasley." 

The two lifted their eyes… Professor Snape. He stood just to the side of Hermione… well, Harry really, there was about two feet of empty space beside her at the end of the bench, the Potions Master was standing right there, blocking any exit Harry could've made.

"And… where, is Mr. Potter?"

"Uh…" Hermione attempted _not_ to look at him.

Snape raised an eyebrow, and set one hand on the table, the other on the back of the bench seat.

"I think he's back at Gryffindor tower, studying for the Potions test." Ron rambled on so stupidly Hermione shot him a look of complete disbelief.

"Indeed… how very diligent. Rather shocking though, to see the two of you without him. I had thought you three were sharing the same brain, therefore… how could there be only two?" His eyes fixed the empty bench. He glanced up at Hermione, his eyes glittering. "You wouldn't mind if I _joined_ you two?~"

Ron and Hermione both spat out panicked attempts to stop him.

"Alright! Alright!" Harry pulled off the cloak of invisibility. "I'm here."

"Oh dear me, and I nearly sat right on you."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Tsk, tsk Mr. Potter… and without your bodyguard too."

"She just stepped out for a minute," Hermione began to spin some incredibly unbelievable yarn, but Snape's expression stopped her. He didn't believe half the _true_ things they tried to tell him, why in the world did she think she could pull this lie over on him? So she just let it die away.

"Pity… I suppose we'll have to go straight to the Headmaster for this offense. After you Mr. Potter."

Harry stood up, part of him thought if they all ran in different directions maybe they could… well, never mind they'd all have to go back to Hogwarts at some point regardless.

"It's not just Harry you'll be getting in trouble you know." Hermione said, "it will be Clothilde too. And, I _know_ you don't want to see _her_ get in trouble."

Snape's eyes appraised her dangerously, his greasy hair tumbled into his face briefly. "Come along you stupid girl."

She slid out of the bench behind Harry. 

"Perhaps Miss Corgan is easily duped but I assure you three, I am not."

"I can't believe you're going to get her in trouble after you defended her…" she let that thought trail off because they were in a public place and didn't want to be overheard.

Snape looked sternly at Harry, who was glaring back at him. "It is astonishing to me that you would put Miss Corgan in this position, after she risked her own life defending yours. Now…" he hissed, very happy to have actually caught the trio, "let's go."

* * * * *

It had begun to snow. Clothilde stopped for a moment, the large flakes fell into her hair, and onto her cloak. She had been searching for hours… could they still be in Hogsmeade at all? She thought about her apartment on Knockturn Alley. It was still there, still waiting for her. She was out and about maybe she could just stop by… visit "Borgin and Burkes", she hadn't been there in forever. 

She could use a drink. 

Clothilde scanned the street again desperately. _'Where the hell are they?'_

As if in answer to that very question, a snowy owl flew toward her, and dropped a letter into her hands. She hastened to rip it open and read it right there on the street, in the way of regular traffic. It did not confirm her very worst fear… which of course would involve some tragic circumstance that had befallen Harry… but it came awfully close. Snape had found him, and conveyed him back to Dumbledore. She was suddenly very much more unhappy with Harry… and Hermione, and Ron… and that _Potions Master_… but mostly herself for screwing up so splendidly. 

__


	14. Clothilde Chapter 14

"Clothilde Part II"

Chapter 14 "Once a Malfoy…"

Rescue me, from this black hole

That's sucked me in and left me dying

You're the truth, that I've been seeking

'Cause my whole life, I've been lying…

~"You Complete Me" Stabbing Westward

Clothilde had been summoned to Professor Dumbledore's office, it was late now. Her cape swung 'round as she entered the room. Her eyes fell upon the faces of everyone in the offending party. Harry, Ron and Hermione; and those who had given offense~ Professor Snape. The lot of them were awfully assembled in cushy chairs in front of a roaring fire.

She strode to the fire without any hesitation, snow fell from her hair and deep blue cape.

"Clothilde…." Came the uneasy voice of Hermione. She silenced the girl with a dark, unappreciative glare.

Snape's mouth curved a bit into a self-satisfied smile. He met each of their stares, in turn, quite smugly. "It's been… hours," he said at last, "have you been out looking for Mr. Potter all this time?" The professor moved to look outside, "good heavens, it's been snowing too… I trust you haven't caught cold on Mr. Potter's account."

Harry glared at him.

"Though," his hissed as he glided over to her. "I'm certain just finding our Harry Potter in one piece is a great relief to you."

She raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him, he had probably no idea how close to the mark that all was…. Then again, it was Snape, so perhaps he did. Through all of his smugness, his perverse need to receive an ambitious pat on the back from Dumbledore… he had, in fact recovered Harry unharmed.

Clothilde, on the other hand was about to be reprimanded by the Headmaster for doing such a sloppy job of keeping Harry safe. If she was lucky she would still have her position here afterward.

Her eyes lingered on the glittering black eyes that were looking down at her as if he was about to add some other snide comment.

She drew near, she could smell the melted snow, and the spice that permeated his robes. He instinctively took a half step back, he _swished_ a bit as he did so… this caused her to smile, and look up into his eyes. "Thank you for finding Harry," she whispered into his ear.

He watched her intently, her breath still dizzyingly warm against his cheek.

She brushed her lips against his lightly, then lifted her fingers to his chin and held it in place as she kissed him. 

His mouth trembled beneath hers before he could quell it, or stifle the gasp of surprise as she chose _now_ as the moment of their first mutual kiss. He wanted to sigh in delight, to touch her, to let his body react… but he had Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley sitting right behind him~ watching. In horror no doubt.

Clothilde flicked her tongue into his mouth, felt his lips soft and warm against her own, returning the kiss with an equal passion, his hands hesitated to do more than touch the length of her hair.

She broke from him lingering only… to trace his lower lip with her tongue.

He swayed. Severus was looking at her as if he needed air… dreamily, and also shocked. His eyes forming a question.

Then she shucked off her doe-skin glove briskly and struck him across the face with the palm side of it. Hard. Leaving a red mark on one cheek.

"You have been formally challenged," her voice was devoid of emotion. She turned from him, put her glove back on and returned to the warmth of the flames.

If the three had been shocked (sickened in the case of Ron) silent a moment prior by the sheer ickiness of Snape being kissed, they were now deafened by the silence of the utter malice which followed. 

Severus touched his face lightly and winced, he stood staring at her, teeth bared… unable to gather his wits.

"Professor Snape, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," Dumbledore appeared suddenly leaning against the upper balcony of his office. "You may go, Miss Corgan and I will need a moment alone. And Severus, if you wouldn't mind escorting them back to Gryffindor tower."

Snape lifted his eyes to Dumbledore defensively, certain he'd seen everything. "Yes Headmaster."

The trio practically raced out of the room.

His robes whirled about him, "I'll see you in an hour in the great hall."

Clothilde met his eyes. He was blushing and very angry. She couldn't remember ever hearing his voice so dangerous and harsh before. Part of her really ached to see him so hurt and embarrassed but part of her was so frustrated and angry that she was glad she'd bested him.

"I'll be there."

Professor Snape spun on heel, his black robes billowing giving him the look of a giant bat as he hastened to be away from her.

* * * * *

Her blonde hair tumbled down over her shoulders. Her collar was white and made of angora goat's wool, very fluffy… her deep blue cape caught in the candle's glow and shimmered.

"You didn't have to be quite so cruel to him you know. Severus cares about you… he always has."

She turned to find Dumbledore directly behind her, looking over his half moon spectacles straight into her chthonic soul.

"He deserved it," she said coldly.

"Why because he found Harry and you didn't?"

Clothilde ran her fingers through her hair exasperatedly and held them there looking up at him. Her expression was quite dark. "Because I am angry with myself."

"So you're going to push him away? Ah I see, now that makes sense," he smiled gently. "Lemon drop?"

"I think I'm bitter enough already."

He snorted a bit at that.

"Of course you realize that was very careless of you to let Harry Potter out of your sight."

"I know Headmaster," she said quietly.

He sat down and urged her to do the same. "I am afraid this must be the last time Harry gets out of your sight. Do you understand me Miss Corgan?"

She nodded. "You're giving me my last chance here at Hogwarts I believe."

"Well, I don't know about that, but to look after Harry Potter yes. I may ask Sirius to take up this position regardless. You, I believe are better suited for other business in our dealings with Voldemort."

"Oh?"

He was looking at her more seriously now, "yes. I think we both know that."

"I suppose," she said resignedly allowing herself to be engulfed in the wing-backed chair.

His eyes twinkled a bit. "I have a great deal of faith in you."

"I kind of liked being Harry's guard, I felt…" she looked up at him, "good."

He pattered her hand gently, "why wouldn't you?"

"Because… oh I don't know…."

He smiled but met her with serious eyes, "just remember Clothilde, always bear this in mind. You are a good person in your heart, I have seen it. Now…" he glanced at his clock, "aren't you due in the great hall very soon?"

She started… he had overheard that?

Dumbledore smiled more openly at her, "don't hurt Severus too badly."

She shot him a sideways glance then strode out of the room wondering if she should let him win… _nah_.

* * * * *

"Here is your iodine Professor Snape, did you want me to cast a healing charm?~"

He took the bottle and hand towel from Hermione briskly. "I want you to leave me alone."

She rushed over to Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus and George who were all sitting around in the Gryffindor common room.

Only moments ago they had all been enjoying a game of exploding snap and some extra food gladly supplied by the kitchen elves, then Harry, Ron and Hermione returned… with Professor Snape.

The happiness in the room had basically died.

"Welcome to our humble abode Professor, have a seat," George beamed.

"Care for something to eat?" Fred winked at Ron.

Ron grabbed them both, "now is not a good time."

"Where's Clothilde then?" George asked cheerily.

Snape's eyes flashed at the sound of her name.

"Uhh, Professor Snape can I get you something for your face?" Hermione offered weakly.

The room snickered. Yeah, Snape needed _something_ for his face.

Ron's eyes rolled up into the back of his head, he really was dreading his next potions class now.

Snape was looking murderous. The room quieted.

"Iodine," he hissed. "Now."

Hermione didn't have to be told twice.

"And Mr. Potter just where… do you think you're going?"

Harry was standing at the foot of the steps to the boys dormitory.

"To my room if it's any of your business."

"Actually… it is. I'm here as your bodyguard until _Miss Corgan_ returns, _if_ she returns."

"Clothilde does allow me to be in my bedroom by myself."

"Perhaps, that is why she lost you so easily today and perhaps her _slapdash_ attitude has caused her to lose her position here at Hogwarts."

Harry sat down, too angry to say more.

"Here is your iodine Professor Snape, did you want me to cast a healing charm?~"

"I want you to leave me alone."

"What's going on?" Neville whispered to Hermione as she sat down beside them.

She shook her head silently.

"Exploding snap anyone?" Fred grinned.

Snape sat down in the cushy chair nearest the exit. He and Harry exchanged glares then he resumed applying iodine to his cheek with a towel. It hurt. So did his pride. His icy expression drooped a bit and it fell more into the realm of true sadness. 

He would jump when he saw her again, his heart would lurch as usual… hopeful, wondering if perhaps she… she could feel the same about him. But now he knew, he knew the truth. She thought of him the same as these stupid Gryffindors, a disgusting professor, someone to make a fool of, as she'd done _so_ well in Dumbledore's office. In front of the school celebrity too… not a bad piece of work for a calculating Slytherin. She had really hit him hard too. He needed time to reflect, this was not the frame of mind he wanted to be in to fight a duel… in, fifteen minutes.

Just as that thought crossed his mind the porthole opened and she came in. The mass of blonde, the deep blue, the jingling armor and her amber paste perfume… his heart lurched.

She appraised him darkly. Her eyes fell to the iodine and the towel pressed to his cheek.

"Harry, you'll be my second."

"Gladly," he jumped up.

Her eyes were on Snape again as he stood facing her.

The room was suddenly clamoring; _'What's going on?'_

Snape swept out of the room wordlessly.


	15. Clothilde Chapter 15

-1"Clothilde"

Chapter 15 "High Noon"

_Oh and every time I'm close to you_

_There's too much I can't say_

_And you just walk away_

_And I forgot_

_To tell you_

_I love you_

_And the night's_

_Too long_

_And cold here_

_Without you_

_"I love you" Sarah McLachlan_

Clothilde trailed into the great hall with the entirety of Gryffindor tower behind her. Hermione was doing her best to dissuade them from actually going through with this… duel. Ahead of them, was the entirety of the Slytherin household surrounding one of the long dining tables… somehow Snape had arrived first.

"Um… what's going on here?"

"Remus… er, I mean Professor Lupin, you have to stop them, they're going to kill each other." Hermione pleaded with the professor who had been standing in the doorway with several other gawkers who were wondering the same thing.

Clothilde saw him, he was coming toward her… probably the same height and build as she herself, with long light brown hair, prematurely gray. She acknowledged him but kept walking.

He stepped up his pace. "Uh, Clothilde right? You… uhh… you aren't going to duel Professor Snape are you?"

She smiled at him.

"We're sorry Clothilde, we didn't mean for you to get in trouble because we went to Hogsmeade without you…" Hermione's voice trailed off.

"That's another issue, which I will address later." She moved through the crowd, then turned back to Lupin. "I do have to leave my back turned on Harry for a few minutes, would you mind making certain he doesn't just… oh I dunno, leave this room?"

"Certainly," his voice was bewildered. He looked over at Harry who was following her through a throng of students up onto a dinner table.

Clothilde handed her cape over to Harry.

"What am I supposed to do as your 'second'?"

"Just pick up my pieces when we're through."

"What?"

She smiled warmly at him… somehow…. Ridiculous how that maternal instinct thing flowed so strongly through her veins… probably some sort of instinctual thing to prevent mothers from killing their kids. Darn good thing she had it too. Or Harry would've probably been maimed a few weeks ago.

"Make sure you stay off the stage here, I don't want you to get blown up."

"Wait… aren't I supposed to make you both see how stupid this all is before you even start dueling?"

"Hmm… I suppose that's what a 'second' is actually supposed to do, partly anyhow, but you'll be doing the 'holding my cape', and 'picking up my pieces later' part… oh, and the part where you step off of the table and don't get hurt. Nor do you run off, or leave my sight."

He frowned.

She drew her gladius.

He jumped down and into the crowd of Gryffindors. Ron, Hermione and Lupin stood behind him.

"I can't _believe_ she hit him."

"Why not? I can't believe she _kissed_ him!" Ron gagged.

Remus blanched. "She kissed… Professor Snape?"

"Exactly. Horrifying isn't it?"

Professor Lupin himself looked to be a slight shade of green.

Clothilde seemed to be made for that stage, battered armor, roman sword… her white tabard of material too fine for fighting. She took a couple of practice swings with her gladius, slicing through the air angrily, as if she _hoped_ it might come to that.

"What is all this about anyhow?" Lupin whispered in Harry's ear.

"Um, I'm not exactly sure. I think Clothilde might be mad that Professor Snape found me in Hogsmeade… without her, then he rubbed it in her face a bit in Dumbledore's office. Just a guess."

"Ah."

"She… she _kissed_ him," Ron was whispering to Lupin unable to fully grasp this knowledge.

Remus patted his shoulder.

Professor Snape ascended onto the table, arms folded… there was something downright eerie about the way he approached it. Gliding up, spider-like. He wore his infamous Italian Ren, but handed his robes to none other than, Draco Malfoy.

She and Draco met each other's eyes… she inclined her sword to the boy in a salute, acknowledging him as her nephew. His eyes widened for a minute, shocked… annoyed and yet pleased at the same time. The Gryffindor side of the table looked over at Draco confused for a moment. Ron nearly passed out.

Remus wondered for a fleeting moment if he should be attempting to break this all up, then he noticed… Dumbledore, in the doorway… he didn't meet Lupin's eyes, he was intently watching the players on the stage.

Severus now took a moment to run through some spells on his side of the table. He turned to Draco and the boy stepped down as well.

Now his eyes were on hers, glittering… dangerously.

Her lip curved into a twisted little smile.

The two came together in the middle of the table. She could see the mark she had left on his face quite clearly now… a reddened mark on such pallid skin. Damn her temper. He lifted his wand and inclined his head… the stiff bow she recognized from years ago. Hers had in fact changed since she'd begun using the gladius, she held it point up before her face and saluted him with a slight flourish swinging it before her, to her right.

They marched back to their corners.

"They… look angry at each other," Lupin uttered.

"They _are_ angry at each other."

Remus was thinking this really was not good… actually quite dangerous for the school, but Dumbledore was standing behind him… hopefully not because he was expecting serious trouble.

The two turned as quickly as possible to get off one of their own spells faster.

Clothilde ducked.

"Expelliarmus!!"

She knew him too well. The spell arced and exploded against a wall harmlessly.

"Pertimesco," she cast on herself as she lay prone. It hissed and seemed to seep into her very being, as she rose her body possessed a golden glow. She took a step forward and slashed threateningly at Snape.

He took an awkward step back. He knew what she had cast, a spell to make her seem frightening, it would be harder for him to cast now… now that his voice trembled like Quirrell's had.

"Fin… ite… Finite… Inc…cantat"

She took several thunderous steps toward him mencingly.

Snape tumbled backward.

"Wingarduim Voloimperuim!" She cast this on herself as well, and within seconds she was in the air, and diving toward Severus, who was a huddled mass of near hysteria.

"Finite Incantatem!!!"

"Crap."

Both of her spells dissipated and she tumbled to the ground… with a thud.

"Is she okay?" Hermione drew closer to the table.

Snape was on his feet stalking over to where she lay, wand pointed at her… wary.

She moved suddenly, but he had expected it and called out faster. "Lethargus!"

The sleep spell.

"Reddo!" she called, rebounding it back at him and she scrambled to her feet.

"Reddo remeo!!" Snape rebounded it coolly stepping back into his own corner.

It was coming back at her again. "Reddo remeo repeto!!!"

He was looking annoyed, that was the extent of rebounds he was aware of, he took the full blast of his own spell. Which, by that point did nothing much but make him yawn.

"Stupefy," he hissed.

She dodged it with ease, but this was just a ploy, a moment later Snape had cast _Wingarduim Voloimperuim_ on himself and within seconds he was standing directly in front of her with his hand holding her spell casting arm at the wrist. He had a overconfident little smile playing on his lips… which she found, both sexy and really annoying. And what the hell did he think he was doing anyhow? This was not proper etiquette for a duel.

She grabbed for his wand with her left hand, which took his eyes momentarily away from the wand hand, with her other hand she broke from his grasp… and smashed him in the face with her armored elbow.

He fell back holding his mouth. Blood was trickling out of it.

Dumbledore unfolded his arms uncertain.

Snape also had a bad temper.

She looked at him with dark, wary eyes as he recovered. He noticed the blood and looked at her savagely.

Everyone in the crowd inhaled a breath that would be held for several moments. The potions master did not look happy.

"Imper"

Everyone heard it, an unforgivable was coming out of his mouth.

Clothilde had heard it too. "Prefoco!!!"

Choke. Her own little creation… and probably not something that she should be casting.

Severus grasped his throat unable to breathe. He stumbled, and fell to his knees.

Dumbledore took several steps forward. Remus was rushing forward.

"Finite Incantatem," she commanded and took several steps toward Severus.

The former enchantment was dispelled, and he began to breathe again… enough to attempt to cast on her again.

They both cast at the same time:

"Rictusempra!"

"Confutosilentuim!"

She crumpled into peals of laughter.

Snape rose slowly, and took several graceful but dangerous steps toward her, hovering there, aimed his wand and said something… but nothing came out. He waved his wand again, but nothing. He touched his throat and glared at her… she was laughing hard. This had been her trump card. By silencing his voice he could no longer cast, and she would win the duel simply.

"Fi…ha ha haha….nite…." Somehow that was the funniest word she had _ever_ thought of before. "Finite… Incanta..tem"…. She stopped laughing.

Snape raised an eyebrow, only a few feet from her, and pointed at his throat.

She stood, and began to cast _Finite Incantatem_ again. But then he pulled a very Slytherin dirty trick on her.

"Dislibramen," he said lazily. He _had_ his voice back.

Then something really kind of freak occurred, this was the unbalance spell and she tumbled backward, of course, as she did, somehow she hit her elbow on the table just right… and a resounding "snap" was heard over everything. And a sharp cry of pain.

A petty unbalance spell had lost her the duel. She winced. She had a broken arm.

Snape rushed over to her prone form. His anger now completely lost as he saw her lying in agony.

Harry moved to be on the table, but Dumbledore intervened.

"She asked me to pick up her pieces… I, I actually didn't think she meant it."

"I think someone else will pick up those pieces…" his eyes twinkled a bit.

"Ew," Ron said unable to think of Snape taking her to the hospital wing, but that appeared to be the case.

"I'll… take you back to Gryffindor Harry," Remus smiled.

"Okay." He glanced at Clothilde's cape and looked at the Headmaster, "Professor Dumbledore"

"Go with Remus. And I'll see to Slytherin."

"I can't believe she didn't win."

"Ron, Professor Snape's no one to trifle with."

"Apparently not."

"Oh, that was just a freak accident… you _know_ this can only result in a second duel."

Harry looked at Hermione. She was right.

Clothilde clutched at her arm, there was some serious pain, and also an intense urge to vomit. She had never had one of her limbs broken before… just some ribs. Well, that was pretty bad too if she remembered correctly, and she didn't just innocently fall on those one day.

"Charlotte…" Snape was over her in an instant.

She looked at him with wide eyes, for a moment she thought he had come to break the rest of her as well. She cradled her arm and made a feeble attempt at escape, much the way she would've if faced with this circumstance in her regular workday. Although, this situation was less likely to have actually arisen there, since she wouldn't have thrown quite as many meek spells at an opponent. Playing fair… was a lot harder. She touched the handle of her Athame with the fingers of her left hand.

He pulled it from her deftly, and sheathed it for her.

Her breathing was coming fast, frightened like a wild animal caught in a snare.

"Charlotte," he whispered gently smoothing her hair back. "Let me repair that for you."

"All… alright."

He pulled her into his arms carefully, the good arm against his chest, the other dangled precariously, and she grimaced in anguish. She could feel, more than hear him uttering an incantation, it reverberated through his chest.

There was a feeling of melting away… the scene shifted, the great hall was gone.

Draco watched all this in interest. His eyes dark.

"Draco, are you coming with us?" The Headmaster asked quietly.

He turned realizing the rest of his household was nearly gone… "yes, yes Professor Dumbledore."

Albus' eyes lingered for a moment on the dueling table, then as if something unhappy had occurred to him, he turned back toward the students of Slytherin.

They were now in a dimly lit room… living room? So, this was what it was like to Apparate, she had always wondered. She had expected to be in the hospital wing, this… this looked like someone's home. It was dark, with thin streams of light filtering in, there was thick, heavy wooden furniture, and oriental carpets, and scrolls or what actually looked like Arithmancy strewn haphazardly over a large table… everything was covered in a thick film of dust.

It smelled odd, as if the place went unused… and also she could smell the heavy dust, and the ancient rows of books, and something like a faint herb or spice smell… the mortar and pestle setting at the center of the table, dusty as if it had been left in the middle of some unfinished project…. Or was that spice scent coming solely from Snape.

After they had gotten their bearings he swept through this room, the feeling of movement… air against her arm seemed to make it throb with pain renewed. She bit her lip and buried her face into his chest.

A moment later, swinging past layers of heavy, velvet curtains she was lowered onto an antique bed. There was a faded red tapestry covering it, serving as the bedspread. It also smelled faintly of dust.

Clothilde opened her eyes cautiously. Why was she in Snape's quarters, on his bed? But… she knew the answer to that. Her eyes fell upon his bruised face.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." Her voice sounded weak… and, maybe a little scared.

He smiled a little at this, and arched an eyebrow. "I am not going to hurt you Charlotte, do try to be still."

He unbuckled the armor on her right arm, and very gently began to remove it. She had to get out of her tabard as well, because her body armor had to come off over her head. That was torture.

When it was finally off, and tossed aside, she was left in tight black pants, leg armor, boots, and a white tank top.

His eyes lingered on the scarf she wore, and then on the tattoos that ran the length of both upper arms, which were identical, and Egyptian… and emanated with some sort of magical vibration.

Clothilde looked up into his eyes, she knew he was studying her body now, what he could see of it, the scars, of which there were many… the tattoos, couldn't really miss those. To anyone outside the magical community they were _cool_, that was all… to Snape, well, he had an idea of what they were.

Severus felt her eyes on him now, and set to work on her arm. He pulled his dark wand from a sleeve and passed it over the length of her arm.

"Have you done this before?"

He ignored her. "Ossisresarcio." His voice was actually deep, and soothing as he cast this. Her limb began to glow a pale bluish color, and she felt her pain lessen. A moment later she fell back, her body relaxed as her bone mended itself.

The briefest of pleasant sighs escaped her lips. It did not escape his ears however. It sent sort of a thrill all through his body. Reminding him of where they were, in his room, on his bed. And he was the reason she'd just uttered that sigh of happiness… no, it did not escape him at all. His voice felt caught in his throat.

"Thank you…" she breathed, feeling blissfully better and opened her eyes. Snape was staring down at her, his face only inches from her own. Her eyes widened. His hands were on either side of her head… he was so deft, how had he managed this without her noticing? She forced air into her lungs.

There was something so dark about him… she wondered if he even realized it was there, like a residue of evil from when he had been so. And now, even if he meant her no harm, he was like some slender black spider over her, the way he was watching her with such intent… and she was the hapless victim who had fallen into his trap.

Though… behind all that daunting darkness, was the thoughtful… saddened look in his eyes, expecting her to reject him completely.

She couldn't speak, it was as if her lungs had been rendered useless. And the more she didn't speak, the closer his face was getting to hers, the dark eyes searching… asking. His breath already coming hard.

"I... I was wondering, why..." His eyes lingered on her mouth, then moved to her eyes. He started again, "why..."

She pressed her lips against his cheek- where she had struck him and left a mark.

He sighed.

"Forgive me," her voice was soft and lost in his coal black hair. Clothilde's cheek rested against his for a moment, "please say you forgive me..."

"Charlotte," he uttered unable to think clearly. He crushed his mouth against hers. She returned the kiss passionately, sucking the swollen lip into her mouth, tasting the dry blood with her tongue. She reached for the back of his head. Ran her fingers into his long black tresses, and pulled him toward her, so he couldn't escape her mouth now.

He moaned, his body came down on hers in a fervor of emotion.

"Severus…" she uttered as she kissed his cheek, back to his lips, his neck… inhaling the scent of his hair. Clothilde frantically began to unbutton the collar of his shirt.

He gasped as he felt her dexterous fingers- the fingers of his one-time student opening the heavy black robes. He had run this very scene over in his mind so many times he would have been ashamed if anyone had ever found out.

"This is happening exactly as I-" his voice caught in his throat.

"Exactly as what?" she hissed lifting her eyes from the buttons. Clothilde tore his jacket open popping a button at the center of his chest. Her eyes were menacing as she looked into his, challenging him with a smile.

Severus glanced down at himself, the paleness of his chest exposed to his ribcage. He was so short of breath now he wondered if he might actually faint.

"I, I forgive you." He looked, with fascination at the rather dusty tapestry on his bed.

Her eyes softened. "For everything? Your lip, and your cheek, and when I accidentally cut your hand-"

He snorted in amusement, but it sounded almost breathless as he did so... nervous as a boy.

"And," she began to unfasten the last five buttons, "do you forgive me for those potions? The _forget_ and the _suggestion_, and the _weakness_?"

Snape looked directly into her eyes with such intensity.

She let the last button come undone and fell back against the mattress. His breath was on her lips.

"I feel the weakness potion coursing through my veins even now..."

"Yes..." she uttered as he kissed her deeply. "Oh yes," she murmured and pulled his robes over his shoulders, pinning his arms next to him. Her mouth sought out his slender torso.

Severus dropped onto his side shucking off his robes. He ran his fingers through her long blonde hair, inhaling amber as she had her way with him. He couldn't take his eyes from her mouth as she licked and sucked at his chest, slowly working her way down. He bit his lip, and thrust against her unable to hold his body in check.

Clothilde felt him buck against her breast. Oh gods she wanted him so badly. Her gray eyes looked up at him, then at his half naked body and she blushed. She had hadn't been this nervous with anyone in ages. Her eyes met his, and her mouth opened a bit...

He caught one arm and drew her back to him. He brushed her lips with his once again, kissed her jaw, the silk scarf around her neck and pushed her gently against the mattress beneath him.

She could feel the hardness of his body now. His erection pressed through the thick black leggings and against her thigh.

He touched her body now. His delicate pale hands were on her small breasts, his mouth on her neck. The weight of his body on top of hers made her gasp.

Her body arched against him.

A sigh escaped his lips, and she could feel the press of his hand against her backside, forcing her to grind into him.

He thrust against her pelvis.

She tried to shove down his leggings, then felt for the inevitable buttons.

"Oh gods..." was all he could muster as she tried to unfasten them, searching around for the entrance. "Torturing me Charlotte..."

She fixed him with an evil smile.

Snape pushed her hand away and undid the buttons himself as fast as he could manage it.

She felt the heat of it now pressed against her.

Their eyes met, and she felt him slowly pulling off her leggings. Her breath seemed caught in her throat as he positioned himself on top of her.

His lip trembled suddenly and he bit it hoping she hadn't noticed.

Their mouths met as he gently slid into her body; gasps of delight lost in a penetrating kiss.

She opened her eyes to find her former professor thrusting into her. She was captivated by the sadness in his eyes still, the desperate, hopeful expression clouded with lust. She felt him deep within her, on top of her, powerful... she felt herself tense, then explode in pleasure.

Severus thrust hard, cried out and spilled himself inside her.

"Charlotte..." he uttered catching his breath as he came down next to her body. Severus lifted his head and looked into her eyes, then gently brushed her hair from her eyes. He kissed her face lovingly, then her mouth, her chin, her throat.

"Mmm..." she lay there with a smile on her face. "You're beautiful."

His eyes widened.

She propped herself up on her elbow, "you just have no idea do you?"

Severus' eyes dropped to the arm she was using to hold the weight of her body, it was the one that had just recovered from injury. She followed his eyes and lowered herself back onto the bed, smiling at him invitingly.

He met her look again, more hopefully... mouth slightly parted.

"What is it professor?" she taunted and ran her fingers over her neck then slowly traced a line down her chalk white body.

He moved over her again, his eyes were wary, quizzical... he kissed her throat, the white silk scarf there. She hesitated, uncertain how comfortable she was with him _ever_ beholding what lay beneath that.

He pulled away but continued kissing her collar, more lovingly this time, not so roughly. Gently moving up her body, kissed her mouth, tenderly caressed her face, arching her neck with a hand, and stroking her through the scarf.

"Severus..." she uttered uncertainly. "It's really bad, and I don't want you to see it."

He glanced down at the dark mark on his forearm a little self-conscious about it himself, then back to her eyes.

She touched the hand he was trying to hide it with gently, he let go and she saw the blackened mark burned into his skin. It pulsed with a magical vibration which reminded her of her tattoos. She kissed him there tenderly.

"No," he pushed her from it.

"It's just a scar."

His dark eyes met hers... exactly.

"Alright..." she said defeated and untied the large bow at the back of her throat.

Severus slowly unwrapped her neck until he saw it- the really hideous scar underneath. It ran from one end of her throat to the other, partly bloated... very nasty... and e knew what it meant too. Someone had tried to kill her, and someone had come very close. his eyes flashed to meet hers.

"Who did this to you?" His voice was urgent.

She smiled warmly at him. "It was a long time ago." She touched the mark on his forearm again. "And besides, he's... dead now."

Silence.

He traced the length of it with a finger, then kissed her there. "I can't stand the idea of anyone hurting you."

She smirked thinking of the duel but said instead, "I feel the same way about you, you know? I have always."

He paused. "You've never asked me about my time as a Death Eater."

"Is that something I _need_ to know about? I read your file ages ago-"

"That must've come as a shock to a former student."

She smiled, "well, yes at the time. You never ask me about my time as a mercenary... and I honestly don't want to tell you about it. You would..." she looked off out a nearby window, "you would never think of me the same."

"Perhaps... someday," he began slowly... "I, I don't want you to... go." He lifted his eyes to look into hers.

"Why not?"

"You know why. Because I want you to stay with me."

"Hmm, I dunno... there is a lot of work outside of Hogwarts to be done, I could still ply my trade as a mercenary, protect someone else... you know."

He crawled over her body and kissed her, the tendrils of his black hair brushed her face. "Please stay."


	16. Clothilde Chapter 16

"Clothilde"

Chapter 16 "The Slytherin Invasion"

Clothilde woke to the feeling of something soft and warm nuzzling the back of her neck. At first she wasn't certain where she was, what time it was¼ who she was.

"Mmm¼" she opened her eyes and light hit them, she grimaced, though, it was not so bad, seemed to be coming from a smudged little porthole window. She now recognized the 'nuzzling' to actually be light, warm kisses. _Oh, I remember where I am now._ She relaxed and smiled more happy than she could remember being, in many years.

"I think you may have missed a spot."

"I am certain you are mistaken Miss Malfoy."

Her soft laughter was lost in the blankets.

He ran the palm of his hand over her right shoulder and down the arm that had been injured yesterday, then began to massage it. She went completely limp.

"Like that do you?"

"Mmm¼ don't stop."

He laughed a little.

"Do that again."

"What, massage here?"

"No¼ laugh."

"I beg your pardon?"

She grinned and rolled over, then met his glittering black eyes¼ and let her eyes roam freely over his body in the sunlight.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite through?"

"I think you should massage my arm some more, it's _awfully_ sore from earlier."

"Perhaps you think I should work on your shoulder too, for good measure."

"Of course."

"Mmm hmm¼" a flicker of amusement played at his lips.

"What time is it?"

"Six I believe."

"Six?¼ Six in the morning!!! I have to get up!"

He managed to get hold of her before she went tumbling out of bed. "Charlotte, it's Sunday."

She turned to him, "yes but, I've got to make sure Harry doesn't get out of my sight."

He smirked, "I believe it's too late for that."

"Keep it up and I'll just fetch him."

"I overheard the Headmaster asking Lupin to watch him."

"Oh¼ oh good¼" then a sudden thought occurred to her, "won't I have been gone an awfully long time for a broken arm?"

Severus pulled her back into the warmth under the covers. "They won't suspect a thing," he hissed.

"Oh yes they will, they're fifteen."

"Pity then, I presume they will deduce you spent the night with that _revolting_ Potions Master."

"Mmm, that's not exactly what they call you."

"Truly? Do enlighten me Miss Malfoy."

"What will you do for me?"

"Everything¼." His voice was a dangerous whisper which made her words catch in her throat. He looked at her with such intensity.

He kissed her mouth tenderly, tracing the curve of her face lightly.

Her lungs expanded with the sweetest rush of feeling, longing, happiness¼ near disbelief she was so blissful. She smiled at him without realizing it and then kissed him. She couldn't stop herself, that mouth needed kissing¼ badly.

"Stay with me today."

"Here? In your bed perhaps?"

"Mmm¼" In between kisses he managed to say, "precisely."

She laughed, "I can't."

"I'm not ready to give you back just yet I'm afraid."

She could feel one of his hands running up her thigh, she gasped in pleasure as he began to stroke her there, slowly moving upward¼ tormenting her. "You could¼ ohh," she bit her lip.

"What's wrong my dear? Having a hard time concentrating?"

She threw her head back as he entered her with a finger.

When she opened her eyes she could see him over her, staring at her face his eyes a bit glazed, really enjoying what he was doing to her.

She ran her hand down his stomach slowly until she reached his erection, which was now throbbing with anticipation. He sucked in a breath as she touched him, and stroked it slowly, steadily.

He threw his head back, closing his eyes¼ his long black hair brushed his shoulders and he pulled his fingers from her as his attention was suddenly focused on balance, and his own pleasure.

"You seem to be having no problem at all with concentration," she quipped.

He whimpered a bit unable to say more.

She moved toward him, inhaling his musky scent, ran her tongue over it.

He gasped.

"How's this? Does this help you concentrate?"

She sucked the head into her mouth.

There was some inarticulate sound¼ she wasn't sure what exactly he said.

"There there, I'm not hurting you am I?"

He pressed her head down against him. She smiled, and took him in her mouth tired of being merciless.

"Where _is_ she?" Ron demanded as he glanced up at the clock. "Do you think she's still in the hospital wing?"

Hermione and Harry looked at each other, as Ron and Harry attempted a game of chess.

"Maybe we should try to go visit her."

"How's the game going?" Remus moved over toward them.

"I'm still waiting for Ron to make his move," said Harry tiredly. He glanced up at the clock, 11am.

"Hmm¼ is this okay to eat?"

Hermione looked at it, "looks safe."

"Hate to start sprouting feathers as well as fangs."

She smiled.

"I don't remember Neville taking this long with his broken wrist," Ron muttered looking at the board.

"Perhaps she needed some rest," Lupin offered.

"What does it matter to you anyhow Ron? She's just a _Malfoy_."

Ron frowned.

"Maybe she spent the night with Snape." Harry said quietly needling Ron.

"Ew¼ what a thought Harry!" He finally moved a bishop.

Remus quickly filled his mouth with custard not wanting to be able to converse with any of them about his thoughts on that topic.

"Remus, why aren't you Harry's bodyguard? You're from this household," Hermione stated plaintively.

"He can't teach Defense Against the Dark Arts _and_ be Harry's guard," Ron rolled his eyes. "Honestly."

She shot him a foul look which went completely unnoticed.

The porthole opened just then, and in strolled Clothilde. She met them all with that familiar striking look of courage she always wore. Just as they were about to get up and greet her¼ Professor Snape glided in after her. He looked nearly¼ serene.

"Guess that answers that question," Harry muttered.

"Ew!" Ron was unable to hide his horror.

Hermione took a step toward Clothilde, "are you all right?"

Lupin attempted but was unable to hide his amusement as he met Snape's eyes. He hadn't seen Severus looking quite so¼ calm in¼ hmm, well, ever.

"Sleep well professor?"

Snape's face went sour for a moment. "Tolerably."

"I did." Clothilde said heartily.

Lupin grinned at her. She smiled back.

Harry and Ron were motionless in the backround too sickened to actually function yet. Plus the fact that¼ it was Snape¼ what was he doing in _their_ household again?!

"You know Professor Lupin could be my bodyguard," Harry stated suddenly.

Remus glanced over his shoulder shocked.

"Hmm¼ yes I suppose he could," Clothilde said darkly, still remembering their little trip to Hogsmeade. "But at this moment, I'm your bodyguard." _And revenge is sweet._

"Not to be rude, but what is Professor Snape doing in Gryffindor tower again?" Ron said annoyed.

Everyone was a taken aback at his boldness¼ and they were a little concerned because, this was Snape he was mouthing off at.

"Ron"

"It's alright Lupin," Snape said silkily. "I'm here to collect you, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter for that detention you owe me¼ for your little outing to Hogsmeade?"

"Oh."

They looked at the floor in unison¼what an interesting shade of maroon.

"Thank you for staying here tonight," Clothilde touched Remus lightly on the shoulder.

"Not a problem, it was like old times," he smiled.

She met his easy smile. For a Gryffindor type he was pretty cool.

"Wonderful duel yesterday," he uttered as he turned to go, "but, you shouldn't have let Severus win so easily."

She laughed and looked at Snape, "oh, there will be a rematch."

The Potions Master was startled at this announcement. "Indeed? I will endeavor to buy some iodine in that case." He then turned to the trio, "well? What are you three waiting for an invitation? Detention will be carried out in the potions classroom. I have a special project waiting down there especially for the school _sleuths_."

The three of them left the tower grumpily, Clothilde on their heels.

"See you Lupin," Snape hissed.

"Mmm hmm," his eyes twinkled.


	17. Clothilde Chapter 17

"Clothilde II"

Chapter 17 _"Awaken"_

"That's it… very good Mr. Weasley, you seem well suited for this genus of work." Snape swept 'round the room checking on the progress the three of them were making with their detention assignments.

Ron looked down at the potion he was stirring, darkly.

"What's all of this for?" Hermione ventured, "it… seems like an awful lot of _Awaken._"

The Potions Master was suddenly behind her, "hmm, does it? Well I suppose that's because, due to the Hogsmeade incident Clothilde will no longer be able to sleep on a regular basis. She will need all of this to keep up with Mr. Potter."

Harry felt suddenly kind of bad, but also really annoyed… now she would never leave him alone.

"And Mr. Potter…" Snape hissed as he turned to address the boy, his eyes glittered dangerously, "I would advise against sabotaging the potion, since you three will be the first to test it out." With that he swished away from them and back to the front of the room where he was working on his own cauldron.

Harry watched him irritated, and for a moment he saw Snape look up at Clothilde, who was lounging in the back of the room reading "Meditations" by Marcus Aurelius. She met the professor's eyes and smiled, then went back to her book. Harry could've sworn he saw Snape actually smirk as he went back to work.

Ron made some sort of inarticulate grossed out sound. Obviously he'd seen the same thing.

Harry did not even want to consider what was going on between them… or, what might have transpired the night before. _Mash those scarab beetles, mash beetles…._

"Professor Snape? Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize everyone was still in here."

The Potions Master glanced up, it was Remus. "Come in Lupin, your _Wolfsbane_ potion is nearly done."

Clothilde perked up. _Wolfsbane?_

Lupin glanced at the floor foolishly for a moment. Snape did not have to announce to everyone just what he was doing… but of course he did, Clothilde had no idea he was a werewolf, and Severus would feel some sort of need to let the whole of Hogwarts find out, if it was up to him.

He glanced at Clothilde as he took a couple of steps into the room. 

She tilted her head to one side in interest. "Wolfsbane?"

Before Remus could open his mouth Snape happily supplied her with the information. "Yes, Lupin has a bit of an _interesting_ problem, being a werewolf."

"Really?" Much to Snape's dismay she wasn't terribly worried, just interested… and maybe a little sorry for Remus. 

Lupin looked as if he wouldn't have minded crawling into a hole somewhere. He turned around, "I'll come back later~"

"It's almost done," Clothilde said, "why don't you just wait?"

"No… no, it's alright."

The trio now were looking murderously at Snape.

"Oh come on, things could be much worse," she smiled warmly, "you could be a Malfoy."

Snape startled a bit… _could be much much worse than that._ But he said nothing.

Lupin met her eyes, there was a true concern there. Maybe he would stay. Much to the dismay of the Potions Master, he took a seat in the row behind Harry's bodyguard.

Severus met the eyes of the three Gryffindors, "well, stop dawdling we'll be here all evening at this rate."

They stepped up their pace.

Lupin sat forward in his chair knowing his presence was an annoyance to Snape, especially since Snape's own… _girlfriend_ had been the one to insist he stay, he decided to lean in to talk to her. 

"You're American aren't you?"

Clothilde let her book droop a bit, "yes that's right. Although because I spent many childhood years here I was under the impression I sounded local."

He smiled, "well… you have a bit of an accent."

Severus glanced up to see the two close together in conversation. 

Remus lifted knowing eyes, and smiled mischievously back at him.

He returned to the mixture, and considered poisoning Lupin for a fleeting moment.

"Why didn't you go to the school for witchcraft in the states?"

"Seven Gables in Salem? Well, I did get a letter from them, but my father stepped in and insisted I be invited to Hogwarts, since he's from this area."

"Lucius Malfoy?"

She stifled a bitter laugh, "ah, no… Clovis." She met his eyes, they were very much like pools. He had an angular face, with a hint of stubble… he looked like something from the forest, she could see the werewolf in him now that it had been mentioned. He… smelled like pine. _Hmm… get back to Lucius Malfoy girl. _"I am unfortunately Lucius' half sister. I though you knew."

"I think Sirius might've said something."

"Hmm, not a surprise. He doesn't like _my type_ much."

"What type is that?"

She grinned at him warmly, thinking of the many responses she could give him, since she didn't feel Black liked her in any way at all, she really could've said nearly anything. She settled on; "Slytherin… type."

"You don't seem very _Slytherin_."

She snorted. That was funny. Then looked back at him, appraising him… wondering what he meant by that, it sounded like a line, maybe it was… to annoy Severus, but she wasn't about to take it that way. "Well, I am."

"Hmm… awfully honest for a Slytherin type aren't you?"

"I am fairly honest… blunt some would say, just my style. Doesn't mean I was mis-sorted though. You're going to have to trust me on this one." She winked at him as if he was a boy.

Lupin took a moment to assess the chipped polish on _his _desk, "I have heard the rumors."

She was getting increasingly annoyed every time she heard this exact line come out of someone's mouth, and it probably showed on her face as she answered, "I don't suppose the rumors mention what an _interesting person, or all around great guy_ I am?"

"No," he mused, "guess you're tired of hearing this?"

"I don't think I'm any more frightening than you, or anyone else at Hogwarts, do you? I mean to say… if Rita Skeeter ever did a piece on Neville Longbottom we might all be cringing in fear."

He stifled a laugh. Then met her eyes brightly, "I think you're right."

"Here is your potion Lupin." 

They both started. Somehow Snape was suddenly behind Remus, glowering down at him.

"Uhh, thank you Professor Snape." He said taking the cup from the Potions Master himself.

"Severus, would you help me find the vials for the _Awaken_ potion? They're in your office aren't they?" Clothilde stood, "I know I can't manage those wards." 

He waved his hand for her to precede him into his office. She strode ahead of him. As they passed the three he turned and gave them a dark look. "Nearly finished Miss Granger? Good, we may yet make it out of here before sunset."

Ron was still stirring… in utter boredom.

* * * * *

He took down the wards with a deft wave of his wand, and opened up a supplies cabinet, reaching up to one of the top shelves he gathered several vials in each hand.

Clothilde came up behind his black crepe figure, and ran her hands up his stomach toward his chest. 

One of the vials fell, but she caught it before it hit the floor. Severus' clenched his hands into fists around the tiny glass vials on the shelf. 

"Hmm… I like this position," she hissed, and slid her hands over his prone form. "When is this detention going to be over with?"

"Not soon enough."

She ran her hands over his thighs, then slowly up to his crotch, rubbing him through the coarse material.

Several vials crashed to the floor.

* * * * *

Everyone in the classroom looked at each other quizzically.

"Is… is everyone okay in there?" Hermione began a bit weakly.

Lupin choked on his potion.

* * * * *

Severus threw his head back, shaking his long greasy black locks against her face. He had his hands at the top shelf, still firmly gripping it as she licked and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, running her hands over his torso and every few moments… when he didn't think he could stand it any longer, over his building erection. 

"This… is hardly professional," he whispered raggedly.

"I know." 

He could hear the smile in her voice as she said it.

He bit his lip to suppress the sigh of pleasure. Oh well… Gryffindor's _finest_ were taking their sweet time getting through their potions anyhow, he thought attempting to reason as she stroked him through his Italian Ren.

"Oh my my my… will it leave much of a stain?" 

His head rested against her shoulder, his body was arching, thrusting against her dexterous fingers, he moaned softly into her hair. 

"Torturing me…" he uttered. 

"Is this torture my sweet?" 

He spun around, his robes swishing… this time a lot of vials toppled to the floor, it nearly sounded like a rack had fallen.

* * * * *

"Those vials must really be out of reach," Ron muttered disgustedly.

Harry and Hermione couldn't repress their laughter.

* * * * *

Snape took her roughly by her upper arms, "shall I show you what true torment is?"

She raised an eyebrow, "hmm… tempting, but you do have three students in the potions classroom."

He pursed his lips annoyed and let his hands drop.

"Perhaps a cold shower?" she hissed against his cheek.

He caught her up in a kiss, taking her face between his hands and holding her mouth in place. 

"Mmm…" she sighed and leaned into his hard-on. 

"Miss Malfoy, we are accomplishing nothing here."

"I've noticed that. But you look _so good_ working in the front of the room."

He considered her face to see if she was mocking him. "What?"

"Well you do… I used to have all kinds of naughty little fantasies about you when I was a teenager."

"I beg your pardon?" He took a step back, he was suddenly transported back in time to the days she was in his class. He would have to re-examine those memories at another… more lonely occasion.

She smiled at him and shrugged. "Just don't realize how sexy you are in your grace… your eloquence do you?"

Now his erection was throbbing. 

He met her gray eyes, then glanced down at it… it was a visible bulge beneath his long jacket, then he looked back up at her longingly, but exasperated because he needed to deal with the people in the class again… soon.

She smiled evilly at him.

Severus pulled his robes around him stiffly and drew his wand. "Reparo."

Setting the vials to their original state once more he swished out of the office and back into the classroom, noting the smirks on the faces of three teenagers.

"Well? If you have all finished bungling those potions I believe it is time to test them out." He fixed them each with a stony stare.

For a moment they looked back at him seriously. Then he turned to gather up a spoon and a murmur which sounded to him like giggles erupted. Snape glared at the three of them.

"I fail to see… what exactly you find so amusing."

Clothilde stepped out of the office, carrying a rack of vials and a loud outburst of laughter ensued.

He rolled his eyes. "I see I will be taking five points each from Gryffindor, and will be seeing each of you individually for another detention, this time for disrupting this detention period." 

As he met each of their eyes in turn he could only wonder how much he and Charlotte had been disrupting detention themselves. He felt slightly unprofessional about everything that had just transpired… he didn't like to feel that way. 

Snape walked toward Harry with a spoon, "now… Mr. Potter, it's time to taste your potion, if you've done it correctly it will only wake you up."

"And, if I've done it wrong?"

He handed over the spoon, and folded his arms, "well… let's find out shall we?"

Harry took a tentative sip, and suddenly felt revived. He sighed in relief. Snape looked slightly disappointed, and handed over the spoon to Ron.

Clothilde smirked as she watched Severus with the students… reminded her of her own past a bit.

* * * * *

"Finally we get you back," Harry grumbled as he Ron, Hermione and Clothilde were heading back to Gryffindor tower. 

"Hmm… so it seems."

"We are awfully sorry about the whole Hogsmeade incident," Hermione said.

"I think I'll get over it."

"Professor Snape wouldn't even let me go to the boys dormitory by myself," Harry shook his head in frustration.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah… you know how he is with Harry."

"Mmm hmm."

Harry turned around to look at her suddenly putting together the indecisive sounds she was making. "You are going to let me go to the boys dormitory alone…."

"Nope. As a matter of fact I was thinking of handcuffing you to your bed… but that really wouldn't work, you're not a Muggle. So instead I think I'll just stay awake all night keeping an eye on you."

Hermione had an 'I told you so' look on her face as they came to the painting of the Fat Lady. "That's what all the potion is for."

Clothilde swallowed down the first vial and smiled at her… rather smugly.

Harry sighed to himself wishing he wasn't a celebrity again.


	18. Clothilde Chapter 18

"Clothilde"

Chapter 18 "The Dark Secret"

"That's it class," Professor Trelawney said, "I want you to get together in pairs, seat yourselves facing each other, knees touching and place the Ouija board on your laps…."

Harry met Ron's eyes and glanced over in Clothilde's direction, Ron followed his eyes to Harry's bodyguard… she seemed to have nodded off in one of the overstuffed chairs at the back of the Divinations room. 

As Clothilde sat in the darkest corner of the room she listened for a bit then lost herself in the professor's nineteenth century décor, the patterns on the chairs set in front of her for the students to use caught her rather drowsy interest… the green, nearly black vines and oddly drab flowers budded against the equally drab material. She wondered if the chairs had perhaps been white at one time, now they were all a beige color… including her own she noticed, and as she began to study the arm of the chair she was seated in, she cupped her chin in one hand and slowly… after a time her entire face became buried in that doe-skin glove. She'd just rest her eyes for a moment~

"Clothilde…"

"Mmm?"

"Clothilde, wake up…." Someone was very close, hissing some words in her ear she didn't quite understand.

"Uh… what?" She grabbed for her Athame, then realized it was Lupin's warm breath she'd felt against her cheek. She remembered now, looking about the room, she was in that stupid Divinations class, she rubbed her face vigorously and shifting her features as if she was looking at the sun she met Remus's eyes. "What can I do for you Lupin?"

He smiled at her amused by the nearly drunken expression her face was now in possession of. "Well, how about you go get some rest?"

"What?"

"I'm here to relieve you. Professor Dumbledore thought you could use some rest."

"Are you serious?" She said half believing but so thrilled at this message she was already on her feet. "You're a saint!" 

Remus actually grinned, she didn't think she'd ever seen him do that before… his long brown hair tumbled down over one shoulder into his face and he absently moved to tuck it behind an ear. She wondered when he had last transformed, that sent of pine seemed to be attached to his being… or maybe it only lingered a bit in the shabby coat he wore. 

Her eyes remained examining him perhaps a moment too long in quizzical inquiry… as she glanced up she met his eyes, which were now on hers. The grin on his face had slipped. She turned to look over her shoulder to see if they had disturbed the class, Professor Trelawney was looking at her but most of the rest of the class was still involved with their witchboards… that is with the exception of Harry and Ron. 

The two had stopped trying to contact Ron's great-grandfather and were eyeing the odd pair, straining to hear their whispered voices over the din of other students who were in the middle of communicating with long death relatives and celebrities.

Clothilde focused her attention once more on Remus, who apparently had also made eye contact with the boys and was in the middle of waving 'hello'. 

"Well," she said in her deep flat voice, which of course caught his attention, "I think my bed is calling me." She let her eyes linger on his for several moments as she said this, a little smile curving the corner of her mouth… then she slipped away.

Lupin's eyes followed her as she climbed down the trap-door and out of the classroom… his lips were slightly parted, uncertain…. He glanced up at Harry and Ron once more, his expression hadn't changed, and with his long brown and gray hair scattered wildly over his shoulders, and the half lost expression on his face Harry thought how much he really did look wolf-like…. At least, at that moment.

* * * * * 

Clothilde moved toward the large painting of the ruined church and graveyard, which was the rather _lovely_ door Filch had decided to supply her with months earlier, she surveyed the area for a moment… well, it appeared to be empty. 

"Devastate," she muttered and the painting flung open.

Once inside she slammed the door shut, then began throwing off her armor and clothing haphazardly, leaving a trail to her bedroom. Finally down to a tank top and underwear, she slid under the covers…. She began to settle down for a deep sleep when she remembered, and jumped back out of bed and into her bathroom. Clothilde quickly filled a glass with water and after fighting with a child-proof cap she was able to pull out one of the last pills and swallow it down. With the very last of her strength she staggered back into her room and slid under the comforter for a long rest. 

She had been wondering just how long Dumbledore honestly thought she could go with only _Awaken_ in her system. Severus was constantly passing her in the hall, or even snatching a moment in Harry's Double Potions class to ask her if she was still coherent. He seemed quite impressed that the potion was working so well, and although he never said so, she assumed he was even more impressed that the trio had made _Awaken _potion that worked so well… after all it had been two weeks.

There was a reason Clothilde hadn't bothered to ask Remus when she was supposed to relieve him, besides just being so utterly exhausted she couldn't think straight. Harry was a sweet kid, and she liked a lot of the others in Gryffindor tower immensely, however, if she ever sprouted feathers again she WOULD kill the Weasley twins…. This break from Gryffindor hadn't come a minute too soon.

* * * * *

"Charlotte…"

"Mmm?…"

"Falling asleep in class again Miss Malfoy?" Came a murmur from the darkness.

"What?…." Clothilde was momentarily uncertain what was going on. She opened her eyes to find herself in a dark room, yet that sounded distinctly like a professor's voice… _perhaps she had been dreaming? Best to get back to sleep and deal with school in the morning…._

"Apparently you find the idea of detention an appealing one Miss Malfoy?"

Now she was awake. She turned over in bed to find Severus sitting on the edge of her mattress. Clothilde grinned, "Professor do you generally frequent the _girl's_ dormitory?!"

Snape raised an eyebrow, he smiled a bit mischievously, "this is as good a place as any to serve detention. Do you have a problem with that Miss Malfoy?"

"Why…" she pulled her blankets up around her, "good heavens Professor Snape."

"Indeed." He said as he drew nearer, giving her a chaste little kiss on the cheek… then looking into her large eyes, he kissed her mouth tenderly slowly pushing her head down into her pillow.

"Mmm… I missed you," she managed in-between kisses.

Snape pulled down the covers gently and slid into bed beside her. They had managed a peck on the lips occasionally in passing but this had been a rather long two weeks… perhaps the Headmaster was actually a sadist. 

She turned to face him, "do you always wear your teaching gear to bed Professor?" then she glanced about, "I don't suppose you've brought your cauldron as well?"

"No, I prefer it remain in one piece Charlotte."

"Hmm, first name basis, whatever will the other students think?"

He combed one stray lock of hair from her eyes lovingly, "they will think you are my pet."

"I see," she smiled rather evilly at him, and slowly ran her fingers from the very top button on his robes… down. "And… just… what… sort of perks…" she hesitated as she came to his waist, and looked up into his eyes, "does that entail?"

"I…" his voice was lost as she ran her hand over his erection.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

He made a second attempt at normal speech but she stroked him gently and began to unbutton his pants… his voice came out only as a sigh. "Charlotte…."

"Professor, please please don't make me do detention."

He felt her remove his member from it's imprisoned state. "Oh… alright… just this once," he managed breathlessly.

"I don't know what those other Slytherin girls were talking about, you're not such a strict teacher." She kissed his mouth, slowly sliding her tongue in, still stroking him. He was moaning. 

"What… what are their names?" he quipped, "perhaps they shall take detention with me next."

"WHAT??!!" She hit him with a pillow.

Snape threw the pillow to the floor, and pounced on her. She could've sworn she heard him laugh. He wrestled his way on top of her easily… partly because that's exactly where she wanted him, and pinned her wrists over her head. 

"Now then, Miss Malfoy," he said in his most intimidating voice, the one he reserved for teaching… and Harry Potter in particular. "You've destroyed your last cauldron… I'm afraid writing lines simply will not do this time."

She sneered, "oh really?"

His eyes met hers scandalously, "afraid not," and slowly ran his tongue lightly over her lower lip, she sucked it into her mouth. Holding both of her arms with one hand he slid her underwear down with the other, and spread her legs, all the while he remained kissing her. She moaned into his mouth as she felt him enter her. Severus pulled back a little to look at her face, he was still holding her wrists down as he pumped into her slender frame. 

Clothilde watched his face contort with pleasure, he seemed so helpless the way he was giving way to waves of sweetness, and yet there he was hovering over her, holding her down still in his teaching attire… hmm, there was something awfully kinky about that. 

"Charlotte…" his voice cracked as he grasped her arms tighter. She could hear his breathing coming hard.

A rather wicked thought crossed her mind and she couldn't help herself, "yes Professor?"

He opened his eyes and cried out at the same time; arching his back and pounding hard into her.

Clothilde ground herself against him, never realizing just how loud her cries of extreme pleasure actually were… nor how religious the things she said during orgasm tended to be.

* * * * *

Severus slid from her and remained laying on his side beside her, both of them felt the heady glowing rush of the lovemaking which had just transpired. Clothilde moved first, she rolled from her back onto her side to find him curling into a ball, his long raven tresses falling into his face. 

She smiled warmly, and began to undress him, nurturing him as if he were her child; slowly unbuttoning his robes and the light muslin shirt underneath, then gently helping him get his arms out of it. He let her do this, feeling comfortable for once with another human being. Within a few moments she had him completely undressed and pulled the blankets up all around them. Her body melted against his, he was so warm, and her room was so chilly. He breathed deeply and she felt his hand on her back pulling her against him. 

Clothilde could feel herself drifting off to sleep again when he kissed her forehead and nuzzled his chin on the top of her head. "My love…." His voice resonated through his chest as her ear rested against it, this was the last thing she heard before she fell into a deep peaceful sleep.

* * * * *

Seven AM came way too quickly. Harry's bodyguard woke to the sound of running water and steam which was rolling into her bedroom. 

"Mmm…" she stretched happily, and rubbed her head against the pillows realizing last night had not just been another pretty dream. She jumped up and decided to make some coffee and breakfast to surprise Severus.

* * * * *

"Coffee?" she offered as he moved from the bathroom, his black robes swishing briskly with every movement. 

He seemed to be preoccupied with something. "Hmm?" Then waved that idea away, "what is this?"

She took a small brownish medicine bottle from his hand sighing, she was not really upset or totally embarrassed but it wasn't something she really wanted him to discover either. "Tea then?"

He met her eyes inquisitively, "yes, that's fine. It was just sitting on the sink."

_Interesting how those two sentences went together._ She rolled her eyes and smiled a bit wondering how she was going to explain this one… then just delayed that moment a little more by pouring him tea.

This did not break his train of thought however, this was Snape she was dealing with after all.

"Are you ill? What is Effexor… venlafaxine?"

She studied the script for a moment, "I was wondering how you pronounced that." Glancing up she found he still had not moved. "It's for a… well, I'm not ill like… um… it's for a psychological illness."

Snape's face seemed to widen a bit at this new information. She hoped that didn't mean he was going to bolt out of their relationship. Instead he sat down his hair was dripping wet. 

She sat down as well. "It helps me control some rather unpleasant moods."

He fixed her with his dark eyes as she toyed with the sugar spoon. "What have those stupid Muggle doctors diagnosed you with?"

"Ah… it's called Anti-Social Personality Disorder." She hoped filling her plate with toast might just alleviate the tense air, so she did just that. It really didn't do anything more than fill her plate with toast however. So she reached for the butter, it was then Severus caught her hand and urged her to please just continue explaining.

She sighed, "it's just a personality disorder… it's not a very nice one, but I think if you really consider my teenaged years, well they were rather…" she met his eyes, "I was a bit of a delinquent."

"Clearly."

She tried to laugh but really couldn't, "well, delinquency doesn't always lead to this diagnoses obviously but… it can, it's not so surprising really… and, well you know I have worked~ done mercenary work I mean…. You know I've done things I'm not proud of, you know I'm trying to be a better person, and I mean Professor Dumbledore believes in me~" She found herself breathlessly tearing through her words as if she felt a need to defend herself.

"Charlotte." He calmed her with an intensely interested but perhaps 'understanding' look. "What is Anti-Social Personality Disorder?"

_He didn't understand. _Her heart dropped.

"Probably what You-Know-Who is suffering from." She stated flatly. "Only in this magical world you guys seem to just think he's some guy who is really evil. In Muggleland he'd be diagnosed with the same thing I have… or he would be the leader of some third world country."

Snape failed to see the humor in her afterthought… given a moment so did she.

"Well, the medication helps me control my rage," she said again depleted of hope he would understand, "I am not explaining this very well, but, not everyone who has this is a killer…." Of course she had killed people…. "A serial killer I mean."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you really have no right to judge me you know? You have the dark mark burned into _your_ arm!"

Snape pulled his hand from her as if he suddenly wanted to cover his incriminating tattoo. "Still," he said at long last, "you… could be misdiagnosed."

"I'm not. The idea of ruling a third world country is rather appealing to me… but I am actually _trying_ to get well. If that wasn't true Dumbledore would've never asked me to guard Harry." She studied her plate fill of toast sadly, "_he_ trusts me. _He _accepts me for who I am."

The potion's master looked up at her from behind a veil of long black hair.

"You knew _who _I was before I gave you the Muggle name for it. You probably have some disorder yourself you know… if you were living in their world."

"I… what disorder?" 

"Oh… oh I don't know, you're probably a Schizoid Personality Disorder!"

"Schizoid?" There was something rather insulting about the way that sounded. "What does that mean?"

"You're the brainiac here, look it up."

"I fail to understand why are you becoming so heated? It was a simple inquiry~"

"Don't you have a class to teach?"

"Yes."

"Fine then."

He stood, he cut a long slender form, his robes like black construction paper, very eerie… very much like a cut-out from Halloween. Her gray eyes were on him, she was pouting like a child, wishing he would just accept her for who she was… she had thought he did, but now that he knew some of the specifics maybe she had been wrong.

Snape nearly touched her shoulder gently but then she looked as if she would've taken his hand off at the wrist so he opted not to. There was a suddenly prickling sensation~ and he grasped his forearm, but Charlotte was apparently too caught up in herself to take notice. 

"I must go."

"Yeah… whatever."

Exasperated and a bit confused by her defensive tone Severus swept from her quarters gripping his arm painfully. He wondered bitterly to himself if perhaps she needed some of the Effexor (venlafaxine) right about now, her moods seemed a bit well… moody.


	19. Clothilde Chapter 19

"Clothilde"

Chapter 19 "Psychology"

__

"You say it's all about

forgiveness now…

well you can grovel if you'd like

but turn around,

do you hear that sound

that's integrity gone a 'ground now

in the name of sacrifice

so tell me now…

would you do it all again…

could you do it all again…"

~ "Chimera" The Tea Party

Clothilde watched him go drearily, her mass of long blonde hair fallen haphazardly into her eyes. There was a long silence after his disappearance, then she lowered her gaze to the table set with eggs, coffee and toast… she toyed with the cold toast then tossed a piece of it into her fireplace where it fell limply onto the stone. It sounded completely stupid… so she threw a second piece… the stupidity of it made her smile a little. This toast throwing moment of happiness didn't last more than a minute, and she buried her face in the palm of her hand, running her fingers into her hair, scattering bits of bread there… she didn't really care though. This was _not_ the way she'd envisioned her morning with Severus would go after the night they had just spent together. It probably wasn't the most tender sex she had ever had but sleeping in his arms had certainly made up for that. She sighed. If only there were some way to explain this whole… disorder thing to him….

She lifted her eyes to the bookshelf on the other side of the flat. Well, it wouldn't be very subtle to just leave him a book lying at the door to his room or something… maybe she could just set it on his office desk or… or maybe she could just owl it to him. She rolled her eyes at the cowardice in that last thought. She could always just slam a book of abnormal psychology into his chest as they passed in the hall. _And that was probably a little too forceful._

Clothilde took a moment to survey the toast in her hand… then throw it across the room as though it were a Frisbee.

* * * * *

Severus made it to his office, the dark mark on his arm was burning black. This was rather unusual, Voldemort had never called him when he was about to teach a class. He was unsure if he should just go or keep the Dark Lord waiting while he finished his classes. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face his shelves, he forced himself to stop thinking about the unpleasant sensation at his forearm. _What was it Charlotte had called that disorder?_ The professor began to sensibly sort through the leather bound editions of magic he kept stored in his back office, but time was running out… soon his class would be filing in for the first Double Potions of the day and he would still be sorting books. Severus's cool slipped, he threw a book over his shoulder, then another, these collided with the potions cabinet. 

"Where is it?" He muttered to himself, he knew he had some of those Muggle alchemy volumes lying around there somewhere.

Several jars were brushed aside as he reached deep into the back of a slightly rickety bookcase he probably should've had repaired, or removed a long time ago. He pulled forth a thick, and very dusty green book of psychological disorders. 

"Aha," he said and glanced out swiftly to see if any children had entered the room yet… no one. Now he tore into the book: _The Schizophrenic and Delusional (Paranoid) Disorders, The Mood Disorders, Substance-use Disorders…Personality Disorders~_ "Yes, that's the thing…" he wondered off-handedly if that 'Schizoid' thing was in there as well.

_Antisocial Personality Disorder, also known as the Sociopath or Psychopath:_

*_'An example of Extremely Antisocial Personality: "I pulled up near a gas station. I told the service station guy to give me all his money. I then took him to the bathroom and told him to kneel down and then I shot him in the head twice. The guy didn't give me any trouble, I but I just felt like I had to do it." _

Observable Antisocial Behavior: The diagnostic manual, which rests its diagnosis on observable behavior with no attribution of causality, indicates the following examples as characteristic of the personality disorder: truancy, suspension or expulsion from school: frequent job changes and long periods of unemployment; irresponsible parenting; failure to accept social norms; inability to maintain enduring attachments in heterosexual relationships; irritability and aggressiveness and failure to plan ahead; disregard for the truth; reckless behavior such as recurrent speeding or driving while intoxicated. No one of these tendencies or single instance of one or two, especially without an early life history of antisocial behavior, justifies a diagnosis of personality disorder. The diagnostic manual specifies that at least four of the patterns be exhibited since the age of eighteen.

Personality characteristics of the Antisocial Personality:

1. Emotional Poverty. The antisocial personality seems never to have developed the capacity to fell strong or deep emotional attachments. There is no real capacity for deep love or loyalty to anyone else. The ordinary emotions of anger, grief and despair are absent. Antisocial personalities show no pity or sympathy for the victims of their crimes, not even much sadness about the sorry plight in which they ultimately find themselves as a result of their behavior.

2. Absence of Conscience. Along with a flat, affective life-style is a nonworking conscience. Although intellectually able to know right from wrong and even ostentatiously mouthing the principles of ethical behavior, they exhibit no remorse about unprincipled behavior, no guilt about irresponsible, sometimes vicious behavior. Nothing seems to affect them about their crimes except perhaps mild unhappiness about being caught.

3. Facile Charm, Glibness and Winning Ways. A capacity to be charming and to use winning ways to manipulate or exploit others is characteristic of a person with antisocial behavior disorder. An especially troublesome trait is their glibness and skill in talking others into victimization. Many victims, even after having been exploited, maintain good feelings about the individual who victimized them. The psychopathic personality is frequently able to escape arrest or punishment by their persuasiveness and deliberately projected air of candor and sincerity. They make friends easily, and just as easily give them up or take advantage of them. They easily persuade others of their good faith, and at times almost delude themselves into believing that what they say is all right.

4. Inadequately Motivated Behavior. As much as we may deplore criminal behavior, we can still make sense of what the normal criminal has attempted~ to make money, to collect on an insurance policy, to make important connections. The antisocial behavior of the disordered seems purposeless and spur of the moment: a crime committed, often a heinous one, because the individual felt like doing it. The psychopath is unable to say why he committed the crime. In the place of the usual motives for the crime, there is impulsiveness and the need to seek thrills and excitement.

5. Inability to Learn or Profit from Experience. Psychopathic individuals go through life without ever seeming to learn from mistakes, to be more calculating in planning their behavior the next time, or to make efforts to avoid detection. The ordinary punishments that most people would fear seem meaningless to them. Their needs are immediate, and memories of past punishments have little if any influence on what they will do today or tomorrow.

6. Shattered Interpersonal Relations. Initial friendships won by their glibness and exploitative charm are very quickly shattered by the psychopath's soon-to-be-discovered, cynical, ungrateful and unfeeling behavior to the newly acquired friends. Lifetime interpersonal relationships are nothing but a series of short-term contacts, callously looked upon by the antisocial personality as new opportunities for manipulation and exploitation.

7. Warped Reactions to Punishment. Certain punishments which normal people try diligently to avoid seem meaningless to antisocial personalities. They seem not to be influenced by physical punishment and care not a whit for social disapproval except as it might interfere with an immediate exploitative venture. But at least one experiment demonstrates a concern about loss of money. The proper conclusion to draw here is that punishment is influential with the psychopath only if it specifically interferes with an ongoing goal, and it is therefore especially noxious.

Treatment is rarely undertaken voluntarily and is rarely ever successful.* 

Severus slid down the wall and sat down on the floor amidst the pile of books he had scattered about his office. He felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach and all the wind had been knocked from his lungs. _This_ was Charlotte's diagnosis? He felt suddenly ill. 

"Why Severus, what on earth are you doing?" Came the deep, aristocratic voice he knew so well.

Snape looked up, to find Charlotte's brother in his office, he off-handedly wondered if these sorts of disorders ran in families. "Lucius? Is there something I can do for you?"

Malfoy took a hesitant step into the room, stepping lightly on some of the volumes Severus had thrown about in his hasty attempt to find this… book of horrors he'd just read from. "Spring cleaning I suppose?"

The potion's master snapped the book shut and set it on his desk then stood up, "if you came here to discuss Draco's falling grades I'm afraid I'll have to speak to you later. I have a class in five minutes."

"Oh… no, I'm afraid not my friend."

"I beg your pardon?"

Lucius swept closer to Snape, his eyes falling deviously on the book of psychology; he lifted it then shot the professor a darkly amused smile. "Interesting selection, taking up Muggle studies Severus? I never knew you had an interest in _Muggles_…. Muggle women if I understand correctly."

Snape's face became an icy mask. "What do you mean?"

Lucius dropped the book. It landed heavily on the desk. "You know quite well what I'm getting at Severus." He turned his back to Snape, then spun 'round again to face him, his wand out, "my… sister none-the-less tsk tsk. To think of my own sister involved with the likes of you."

Severus made an attempt to draw his own wand but Lucius sent it flying from where it had been hidden within his robes. "I don't think so. Frankly Snape, I have no idea what you would want with a half-blood either… however," he motioned at the book on the desk. "You two obviously have become… acquainted. You know she's sick. A very sick little half-blood."

"Indeed. I had no idea until~"

"Pity. Too late now for regrets… you two do make an interesting pair. And… let me tell you, the Dark Lord was simply fascinated when he heard."

Snape paled. "The Dark Lord?"

"Of course." 

Several new Death Eaters moved into the room behind Malfoy.

"Pity Charlotte wasn't a full blood isn't it? She would've made a fine Death Eater with those symptoms. Ah well, the Dark Lord certainly wasn't pleased to discover one of his favorite Death Eaters involved with a half-blood though, I can tell you that."

Snape was trying desperately to think of an escape, trying to shield his mind and half wondering why Charlotte hadn't decided to just drop in on him now. He was really kicking himself for storming out on her. He might never see her again… _Great heavens, he still loved her, none of this new information really even mattered to him…._ His eyes met with Malfoy's. A rather sublime look crossed Lucius' face. 

"Perhaps Charlotte _will_ come looking for you old friend. I wouldn't mind taking her apart, piece by piece… the little bastard. Maybe then I won't have to worry about her being in the Will at all. Hmm?" He sneered. 

* Most of the information cited earlier was taken verbatim from Abnormal Psychology 2nd Edition; Costello, Joseph, T. PhD., Costello, Timothy, W. PhD.; HarperCollins Publishers Inc.; 1992.


	20. Clothilde Chapter 20

"Clothilde"

Chapter 20 "The Abandoned Bottle"

__

I know the pieces fit cuz I watched them fall away

Mildewed and smoldering. Fundamental differing.

Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion

Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication

The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so

We cannot see to reach an end crippling our communication.

I know the pieces fit cuz I watched them tumble down

No fault, none to blame it doesn't mean I don't desire to

Point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over.

To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication

~ "Schism" Tool

  
  


"Severus?" Clothilde had swept down the classroom steps, the classroom was free of all children, and into the office which was just off of his the room he taught in. Her hardened gray eyes met with the kind eyes of Professor Dumbledore; he stood amidst the wreckage of Snape's office. The place she had recognized always as very orderly, if a bit musty was now utterly destroyed. Albus himself was standing on a pile of books, and there was nothing but broken potions bottles and overturned bookcases.

Clothilde glanced about in horrified wonder, then she saw the blood. There was a spattering of blood here and there on the cold, gray wall, and a splash on some stray textbooks of potion making.

"Where is Severus?" Her voice did not come cool and alto as it normally had, no this time it betrayed her emotion~ fear… panic, urgency.

Dumbledore fixed her with a look she had never seen on his face before, he was serious, and he almost seemed as if he was weighing her reaction. He actually seemed to be wondering if she had had some hand in whatever had transpired.

"Where is Severus?" All panic had turned to terror now. 

The headmaster sighed, sadly but also as if he had come to the conclusion she was being honest with him. "I don't know…. Taken, I believe, by Voldemort."

"What?!"

He sunk down into the desk chair, "this… doesn't look good Miss Corgan."

"Why would Voldemort take him like this? So… violently? He was spying right, but I mean…."

"I don't know." His eyes met hers once again.

"Where is You-know-who?" She persisted, climbing over the debris to get into the room, "I want to know."

"Clothilde~"

"I will find him."

The headmaster seemed to be considering her words. "You cannot face Voldemort alone, you will not win."

She seemed agitated by his answer, she threw one of the books against the wall angrily, then she found a jar full of some bluish liquid and sent it spinning against the wall as well… that dashed with much more finesse than that stupid book had. It exploded with a fury and showered her with it's slimy substance. Clothilde swung 'round searching for something else to destroy. Dumbledore handed her another book which she snatched from him but just as she was about to throw it she caught a glimpse of the cover… a psychology book? She turned to look at Albus. She had had it with hearing about how she was sick, how she was dangerous… she was just human, like everyone else. She proffered the book to him, and he took it back.

"If you won't tell me where he is I'll just find him myself," she said whirling around.

"Clothilde, you are here to protect Harry Potter. Are you resigning then?"

Her back was still toward him; her very long blonde hair, and her blue cape were what met him now… "you know I can't just leave Severus out there Headmaster."

"Yes, I know that."

"I don't want to leave Harry unprotected but what can I do? I'm certain Lupin will look after him."

There was no reply. Clothilde closed her eyes and took a deep breath… the room still smelled as it had when she was a girl, dank… it was cool and calming, and yet it was covered with blood; blood which could very well be Professor Snape's. 

"I love him. That's all there is to it. I can't just leave him at the mercy of Vol~ You-know-who." She sauntered out of the room purposefully, her armor creaked as she moved.

"I know," said the headmaster when she had gone. He wiped his half-moon spectacles with a handkerchief, somehow he had gotten something in his eyes.

* * * * *

Clothilde had returned to her quarters, she sat in a chair in front of her fireplace, head in one hand trying to figure out where Severus might just be. 

"Incendio," she muttered pointing her athame at the hearth and willing the flames to life. She wondered grimly how many Death Eaters she could watch burn to death and feel… nothing for… then she looked down at her bottle of Effexor, which… held two pills. She knew Severus had probably stopped loving her the moment he had read the truth of her malady but that didn't stop her from loving him. And now it didn't matter if she lived or died in the rescue of the potion's master, he no longer wanted her… and she certainly didn't want herself all that much either. Some sort of trick of life she supposed… you finally get everything you could ever want and then the powers-that-may-be take it all away from you. Some sort of crappy hand she'd been dealt in this life… the Malfoy side of her had left her with this genetic predisposition for this particular disorder. Well, if it was all she had to work with she supposed, she'd have to wield it as if it actually was power. Which, in a way it was… when you could just flip a switch in your brain and make all the feeling go away…. When it took a lot more to end you simply because… because some chemical in your brain worked slower than it did in other people and you just didn't stop to think, 'wow, that's my arm lying over there'… or 'I'm being crucioed to death… perhaps I should stop now', quickly enough… she knew she could view it as being tougher. 

She sighed, and looked at the bottle… two little pills… which, were going to remain right there. Not that they did much anyhow… just helped her control herself a little more. But she'd been getting better, that she knew…. That was the worst part probably…. All the time since she was nineteen and she knew about her illness she had been trying so hard to just will herself to feel some empathy for others, to be a real friend, to just come around and it was working. Almost no one with Antisocial Personality Disorder even wanted to 'come around' but she had wanted it… and she was doing it. Now… it was like it didn't matter because everyone was scared of her regardless… and Severus had left her. Well… it didn't make any sense to dwell on that now, she had to save him, get him back to Hogwarts if possible… that was the important thing now. 

Clothilde gazed into the flames… now, how to find him? What if he was dead? _That was a pointless thought._ She stood. She needed to go back to the potion's office. It was late, there would be no one around… she hoped. Severus was not a fool, if he had had any chance he would have left some sort of a clue… of course one would think Dumbledore had already discovered it if there was one, being that, he was certainly no fool either. She swept out of her flat with that idea and thundered down the dungeon hallway toward the potions classroom.

She thrust open the door without subtly and pounded down the stairs into the depths of the dark, dank potions room. Sweeping past the professors familiar desk she was taken back to her own school days, and there was a sudden feeling there was something caught in her throat… it made her eyes tear up for a moment, but she pretended not to notice. 

"Lumos," she muttered and her athame glowed with magical light. She pushed open the office door, for one brief instant her mind flew back to the night she'd captured her professor and had him pinned to the floor helplessly… though now she knew he was truly not as helpless as he would've had her believe. Then the day she and Severus had finally come sort of terms, drinking coffee and talking about being civil to each other during class… he kept trying to figure out just _who _she was. Clothilde smiled at the memory of that moment as she took a step within. Her heart felt full at the memory… and then pained as she knew he no longer believed in her. 

There was a silhouette of a man standing behind Snape's desk. She lifted dark eyes to appraise him.

"Who is there?"

"Lumos," a tenor voice uttered, and his wand shed light onto his chiseled features.

"Lupin?"

"St. Lupin," he smiled warmly at her.

"Oh do forgive me. What are you doing here?"

"Probably the exact thing you are doing here. Professor Snape has suddenly disappeared so we're both… looking for clues I assume?"

"Yes," she said tentatively looking about the darkened office, weird shadows caught against the walls due to the mess the room was in, and the lighting of their wands. "We are liable to attract Mr. Filch's attention like this."

He smiled more openly this time.

Clothilde stopped in her tracks as if she had suddenly realized something. "Who is guarding Harry?"

"Uh, I am of course."

"I thought as much." She glanced around looking for bodiless shoes. "I sincerely hope Hermione has found something."

The trio emerged pulling the cloak of invisibility off themselves. 

"I'm a little surprised you want to find Professor Snape at all."

"He is a Hogwart's teacher," Hermione stated flatly, "and besides, he's in the Order we _have _to help him."

"Help him?"

"Yes, that's right," she moved over to where Lupin was standing with that damn psychology book in his hands. "You see right here," Hermione was pointing at a page that discussed Antisocial Personality Disorder. 

Fantastic.

"There's something written here."

Clothilde drew in closer lowering her athame so she could see the page more clearly, _'Lucius'_. She and Hermione met each other's eyes. "Lucius? Why would he?~"

"Don't you see?"

Unfortunately she found herself staring rather stupidly at the fifteen year old in front of her. She resisted the temptation of simply stating, 'no I'm an idiot, just tell me.' As she was certain did everyone else in the room.

Luckily Hermione continued as if this was the sort of response she was quite used to, "Lucius knows how Professor Snape feels about you."

"What?"

"He knows because Draco must've told him. Maybe you didn't see the reaction Draco had that day you and Professor Snape dueled? I think he went right to his father to let him know that the professor was involving himself with his aunt… and Lucius Malfoy probably felt a bit more upset about the situation than Draco could've guessed, after all not only are you his sister… more importantly, you're a half-blood. If the professor's been working as a spy for the Order his cover was completely blown the minute Lucius got wind that he was in love with a half-blood~"

Clothilde's heart suddenly expanded to a point where she thought it was crowding her adam's apple and making it a bit difficult for speech… or breath, at the thought of Severus ever being "in love" with her. Now~

"No Death Eater in his right mind would be involving himself with anyone but a full blooded witch, so…" she looked up at Clothilde nervously, "I think Professor Snape is in a _lot_ of trouble."

Clothilde couldn't stop herself this time, she had to ask a stupid question, "so it was Lucius… where could he have taken Severus?"

Lupin looked up at her uncertain.

"Well…" said Hermione, "we could try the obvious~"

"Right," Clothilde turned on heel nearly crashing into Harry and Ron as she did so, "pummel Draco until he gives us some answers."

"Right then," Ron began to follow her.

Harry grabbed Ron's sweater, "no, Ron… Clothilde, do you really think Draco's going to have the answers?"

Clothilde grimaced at him, "let's find out."

Lupin nearly jumped the desk to get to her, "hey, hey…."

She felt his hand pulling her cape, then a second hand tentatively grasping her shoulder, then he was standing in front of her… looking into her eyes with his…. _Oh my god, why was she so attracted to him?_ Clothilde decided to look away.

"We could go with the _other_ obvious place," he winked at Hermione. "The Malfoy estate."

Clothilde made the mistake of meeting his eyes again, she was struck with that stupid chemical reaction again. "You think he just took Severus home?"

"Afraid that's all we've got."

"Hmm… well I haven't seen dad in a while."

"That'agirl," Lupin beamed.

She moved to the doorway, "well then, goodbye everyone thank you for all of your help~"

"Uhh, no Clothilde." Harry took a step toward her, "we're going with you."

She looked over the trio, and Remus, then back at Harry again, "no I can't do that Harry. I can get myself killed but I can't risk you… any of you."

Harry looked at her stubbornly. "We're going to follow you. You can't stop us."

She rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Et tu Lupin? Great, Dumbledore will have my head for this one…. If we live," she hissed.


	21. Clothilde Chapter 21

"Clothilde"

Chapter 21 "The Rendering of Curses"

__

You never have been wrong

You never have been sane

Though you say that you don't care

In your eyes I see the shame

Looking through the window of your mind

I see a lonely shadow running out of time

Running out of time

~ "Termite Song" Joseph Arthur

The woman stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom, her eyes followed every scar, every line on her face… the angry line that had deepened with time between her eyebrows. _Where in the world had that come from?_ She had to hurry she realized… they were leaving tonight… and she was never coming back, although she knew the others had no idea.

Her armor was coming off her now… piece by piece… shins and legs, and bracers, shoulders and hardened leather armor for a breast piece. She looked once more at the mirror as she unbuckled her gorget… beneath this was the white satin scarf she always wore about her throat. The gorget clanked onto the tile amidst the disarray of parts, and she ran her fingers over the scarf's fluid surface… then slowly untied the bow.

The long white scarf fell to the floor as well. Now as she gazed at herself she saw the scar she'd tried so long to hide. It had been a cut that had nearly taken her life… so deep she thought at once she might die… but she'd lived, lived on somehow instead.

She buckled on her belt, sheathing her athame there, at her hip. She wore a Hogwarts sweater-vest but left her arms bare, and a simple pair of blue jeans… and boots. Clothilde emerged from the painting "Abbey in the Oak Forest" by Friedrich, she clutched the frame tenderly knowing she would never see it again… and it had been hers, her little mark on Hogwarts. She shut the door… shutting herself out.

Lupin was standing right there taking in this new version of her slender, scarred form… inhaling the scent of amber paste. 

Their eyes met… his eyes were green hazel, they seemed to have a cloudy sparkling nature about them. He was looking at her forearms, covered in identical Egyptian tattoos… which emanated something magical. "Are you leaving here for good?"

She glanced down at the cold gray stones for a moment, and smiled faintly. "Do you know what that feels like?"

He weighed this a moment. "I think you know the answer to that."

Silence.

"You have a lot of scars."

She laughed a little. "You have no idea."

"Your throat…."

She followed his hand to her neck and clasped her fingers absently over that rather hideous scar. "Yes. This one nearly killed me, but you know… a person can live through a lot more than she thinks she can." Clothilde's heavy eyes met his once again and she found in his exactly what she thought she would, understanding.

Lupin seemed to sense this also, some sort of common bond they shared, and it was as if some realization hit him when he really didn't want it to at all. He took a step backward, "uhh… Harry, and Ron… Hermione…" he said absently looking over his shoulder as if he knew they were there, just hiding in the shadows. As the trio traipsed toward them, he glanced back at her quickly, "you smell wonderful."

Her eyes were dark, and flat… she appraised his long brown hair, the streaks of gray highlighting it, and yet, he was Severus' age; his petite, delicately muscled frame…. She wondered who he was… he seemed so haunted…. As they all departed, he caught her with her eyes on him, but she didn't turn away, she was all out of medicine and just couldn't care anymore.

The approached Hooch's locker rooms where Clothilde, Lupin and Hermione had to… borrow some stray broomsticks. This was not something Hermione nor Clothilde was looking forward to. This being just about the only thing… outside of Divinations Hermione wasn't very good at… and Clothilde, well, being overspecialized in one area was nice but it meant she pretty much stunk at everything else.

* * * * *

Severus awoke and inhaled the scent of cigar smoke, his body felt stiff and wracked with pain. He attempted to touch what felt like dried blood on his lip, but he couldn't move his hand… this roused him even more, looking down he found his wrists bound to an exquisite chair. It looked to be 17th century in style. Glancing about him painfully he took note of the museum-like quality this room bore, it would've been nearly sterile in it's perfection if there hadn't been a rather cheery fire blazing in the hearth… and that sweet smell of smoke. He followed the pluming trail of smoke, with dark eyes, to the man in the center of the room; his silver blonde hair hung down loose and striking against his deep green jacket. Lucius. Suddenly Severus' mind returned to the events that had led to him being in a firefight with five Death Eaters and winding up, bashed and bound to a chair in the parlor of Malfoy's home.

"This… looks suspiciously like the Malfoy estate," he said dryly.

"Oh Snape," Lucius turned around, "you're awake."

"A simple dinner request would've sufficed Lucius."

"Yes well… I _am_ hoping my dear sister might join us. You see I've as much as written her an invitation."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"That Muggle book? Ah yes… I supplied her with the information she needed to find you."

"And, you believe she would simply come here?"

"To rescue you? Of course…."

Severus snorted. "I highly doubt that."

"Oh Severus," Lucius chided taking a step toward him, "Charlotte might have been put into Slytherin… for… other dubious reasons, it certainly wasn't for her cunning… you, being her professor _amongst other things_, must've noticed that."

Her _'cunning', _or lack thereof had not been something he had been questioning, but he said nothing. It was more that he really did doubt she would make any attempt to go searching for him after his initial reaction to what she had been trying to explain to him. He wanted to sigh deeply at how stupid he felt about this entire situation, but he kept up his icy mask. 

"You did put up a rather good fight you know Severus," Lucius smiled, "the Dark Lord would've been impressed."

"I can't imagine," Snape quipped coldly.

"You think not?" 

The potion's master waited for Lucius to say something. Malfoy had a habit of entertaining himself by simply blathering on… mainly about himself. It really couldn't have been much worse, well if he had been getting _Crucioed_ it would've been worse, but he assumed Voldemort had actually allowed Lucius to be his little babysitter only because he knew this inane prattling would make him insane possibly faster than the Cruciatus method would.

"The Dark Lord was most displeased of course to discover you were involved with a Mudblood…." 

Silence once again.

Malfoy swallowed down his glass of brandy and turned to the decanter for a second. 

"When has the _Dark Lord_ ever been pleased with my efforts?" Snape said dismissively.

"Perhaps he'll tell you… tonight?"

"What?"

"Didn't I mention he would be stopping in?" Malfoy sat down amused. "Ah yes well, let's think about this one shall we? Charlotte has been Harry Potter's bodyguard for months now, don't you think it highly possible that the Potter boy will follow her here? He does seem to get himself into the most trouble of any boy I've ever known."

Snape tested the strength of the rope at his wrists absently, then considered casting something to free himself. _In due time._

"What I'm getting at is… Lord Voldemort is certain Harry Potter will be stopping by with Charlotte. Isn't that simply… touching?" he asked hoisting the glass to his lips.

_Is he still talking? Of course he's still talking. _

"It seems he has plans for _Potter_ just as I have plans for my dear Mudblood sister," he smiled nearly serenely at this thought, "oh well… of course the Dark Lord has plans for the boy, it would be foolish to think he didn't. But I, I simply cannot wait to confront my little sister… at last."

Suddenly Snape felt the bonds holding him to the chair falling away, though… there was no one… visible. For a moment his astonishment nearly gave the situation away.

Malfoy faced him once more, looking slightly intoxicated and Snape's cold façade fell back into place. "The wards…?"

"What were you saying Lucius?"

He set down his glass hastily, "Crabbe, Goyle!"

They came barreling in from the corridor.

Lucius fought of the urge to roll his eyes at their stupidity, instead it said simply, "check the house for intruders."

They were gone in an instant.

"Well then," he said facing Snape once more, "we shall see about this shan't we? Do you have a little rescuer on site?"

Snape's eyes were foreboding as they locked on Malfoy's.

Lucius felt someone lift his wand from the inner pocket of his jacket, he grabbed for it before it had left him completely.

"Well then… I never was very nimble," came the deep sarcastic voice of a woman… from thin air.

Severus' attention went to the area it seemed to come from.

Lucius hand his wand out now, searching for her. "Certainly not," he said contemptuously. "You aren't afraid to show yourself are you?"

_Muffled laughter._

"No."

"Crucio!" Lucius sent this spiraling from his wand and into a wall where it blasted a portrait of an ancestor to pieces.

"Whoopsie there brother dear." 

He spun 'round, "Crucio!" 

A beautiful 17th century chair sailed through a mirror.

"You missed me."

Malfoy frowned then strode over to where Severus sat, and placed the end of his wand against Snape's throat. "I won't miss this time."

There was a sudden glint of light, Snape's eyes betrayed him as Clothilde came unveiled behind Lucius. The cloak of invisibility fell away and she brought her athame down on her brother as though it wasn't magical at all… simply a Muggle tool for violence.

Malfoy saw the shocked expression in Severus' eyes but not soon enough, he felt a heavy thing hit his back. At first he thought it was someone punching the wind out of him, as it stabbed through a lung… but then as he lost his ability to stand, and the wand at Snape's neck faltered he realized it was more than just a fist. He crumpled to the lovely hardwood floor in a ball. Then someone pulled an object from him, swiftly.

Lucius forced himself to see who had done it. Charlotte stood over him, there was blood on her face… she looked strong and… emotionless. She wiped her athame clean matter-of-factly.

"You could do this… to your own… brother?"

"Oh you're so right Lucius, _Crucio_ would've been much more humane."

"Stabbed… in… the back, by a Mudblood."

She glanced down at Severus, "certainly hasn't rendered him speechless though has it?"

"Subtle as always Miss Malfoy."

"That's Ma'am." 

"How about… Charlotte?" he said sounding a bit apologetic.

She smiled slightly at him, a little tried by the entire pretense of even attempting a romantic relationship. Harry's bodyguard glanced down at Lucius who was bleeding there all over the floor, he was her brother and at the moment all she saw was a body… an annoying body at that. "I just maimed my own brother Severus, you can't understand me, and I realize that you won't; and I don't blame you…."

He stood up now… a bit light-headed from the beating he had taken, and then grasped the arm of the chair to steady himself. She took hold of his arms to help him.

"Generally," he breathed, "I am the one who is forced to explain myself."

"Does it work?"

"It depends on… to whom I'm speaking."

"Severus. So, my old friend Lucius Malfoy was right, you are involved with a dirty half-blood." The room seemed to sway and darken….

The two of them turned. It was Voldemort.

"Crucio!" Came the voice of Lucius from the spot where he lay in a pool of his own blood, this time he hit his target. Clothilde dropped the slick athame, and fell to the floor, hitting her head on a table as she went down… writhing in agony.

Snape also fell to his knees now that there was no one to help him stand.

"Severus… how you've plummeted from the position you once held at my side."

"Charlotte~" Snape couldn't catch himself fast enough, his feelings betrayed his logic this time. Then his eyes fell upon Lucius, he scrambled to retrieve his wand from Malfoy's spent form. Just as he reached it however Voldemort was before him, his wand pointed directly at the potion's master… his forearm, where the dark mark had been magically burned into him felt as if it were once again on fire.

There was something so ominous about the way he stood there, above Severus… there was a darkness about him, negative, magical energy burning madly in his eyes. 

"You have no idea how much it hurt me to discover you were a traitor, no idea," he hissed.

Snape felt his heart pounding. Charlotte was screaming, writhing on the floor beside him, he felt himself torn… he had the Dark Lord hovering over him, and the woman he loved in agony beside him. He gathered up his courage~ "Finite Incanta~"

"Imperio!"

_'No.'_ The single thought that was racing through Severus's mind. _'Gods no,'_ he didn't even want to imagine what Voldemort would make him do to his beloved.

  


__

  



	22. Chapter 22

-1"Clothilde"

Chapter 22 "The Mercenary"

_"My song is love_

_My song is love, unknown_

_But I'm on fire for you, clearly_

_You don't have to be alone_

_You don't have to be on your own"_

_"A Message" Coldplay_

_-----------------------------------_

"Kill her."

Snape's worse fear had just come true, and he could do nothing but comply to Voldemort's wishes. _"Avada Kedavra!"_

"No!" Lupin cast a shield spell between them as he ran in from the other room.

As Lucius had lost consciousness his spell dissipated and Clothilde was free from Crucio. She dashed back under the cloak of invisibility.

Voldemort roared now insulted that this new person had intruded on his fun. "Kill him!"

_"Avada Kedavra!" _Snape barely hesitated this time. There was little love between him and Lupin.

Not wanting to kill Severus, Lupin dodged the curse flung his way and cast a binding spell on Snape.

Under the invisibility cloak Clothilde groped for her athame.

Crabbe and Goyle, parents of Draco's long time school chums, reentered the room dragging none other than Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"What's this? What's this?" Voldemort's voice took on a rather delighted tone. One eye still on Lupin, he took a menacing step toward the trio.

Lupin raised his wand-

_"Expelliarmus!"_

A moment later Voldemort had Lupin's wand, and lazily removed the binding spell on Severus. "Now Snape, get on your feet and do something useful."

The potion's master looked nearly like a puppet, forced to his feet at an odd speed that didn't seem his own.

_"Crucio!"_

Remus fell to the floor screaming.

Clothilde cut across the Egyptian tattoos on each arm with her athame. She winced as the blood flowed freely from the broken face of Anubis. Felt the magical shield she had worn for so many years destroyed as she destroyed the magical ink.

She pulled back the curtain of cloak just enough to aim her athame at Voldemort, _"Discidium diripio!"_

The dark lord had one hand raised behind him as if he had expected the attack and deflected it. Clothilde's favorite curse bounced against an exquisite settee blowing it to pieces and sprung back at Crabbe. It hit him with less then half the strength, and yet she could still hear an internal cracking, as if something within his torso had broken.

Crabbe slid to the ground releasing Ron and Hermione.

After destroying the tattoos, which had protected her from the Ministry of Magic for years, hiding the fact she still practiced magic, she knew just that one spell had alerted them to her whereabouts.

A moment later several aurors apparated over the nearly dead body of Lucius Malfoy.

"Clothilde Co-"

The small group weren't quite prepared for the scene before them. Professor Snape torturing Professor Lupin. The bloody body of Lucius beneath them, an unconscious Crabbe lying in a corner and could that be... Voldemort?!

The dark lord shrieked not prepared to be identified just yet and disapparated suddenly leaving Goyle behind to fend for himself.

As he vanished the curse fell from Snape and he stumbed backward, still weak from the beating he had taken earlier.

Lupin passed out.

Clothilde's eyes dashed around the room trapped and on her way to prison. For a moment this had seemed the heroic thing to do but now, in the calm she realized she needed to escape.

"I have Potter!" Goyle said, a wand at Harry's throat.

The three aurors had their wands trained on the man.

_"Sectumsempra!"_

Harry tumbled to the floor, beside him was Goyle's arm. The sound of a man's screams caused him to look up hastily and he saw Goyle holding the place his arm used to be, then the slashes all across his torso.

Snape slid to the floor finally spent.

Harry looked over at him exhausted on the marble floor, wand quivering in his hand.

Two aurors moved to Harry and Goyle, while the other checked on Severus.

Clothilde took that opportunity to transform herself into a cat- an 8ft long Sundarban tiger to be exact.

Snape knew the type, the only tiger known to seek out humans for food. A true _man-eater._ "Typical," he thought as he passed out.

She leap out a window and disappeared into the night...

----------------------------------------------

The gloomy potions room was filled with the sound of teenagers chattering away about what happened to them over the weekend, but Harry, Ron and Hermione sat silently thinking of what they had witnessed over the weekend.

"Where's your bodyguard today Potter?"

_Draco._

"He must've heard what happened," whispered Hermione.

"Got a lot of nerve. Wonder what happened to his dad," Ron muttered.

"Azkaban I suspect," whispered Harry not so quietly looking at Draco.

A moment later Professor Snape glided into the class, his long black robes billowing behind him giving them the distinct impression of a bat. Yet, Hermione noticed a touch of crimson trim at the collar, with what looked like the letter _S_ in a very small pattern around the wrists. His face was still battered from whatever had happened to him when he had been captured.

The potions master looked out into the sea of faces. He seemed to be searching for one face in particular.

"Oh... he's looking for Clothilde too," she whispered to Harry.

Without missing a beat he addressed Hermione, "ten points from Gryffindor for talking."

The collective group of fellow Gryffindor's seemed to deflate, all but Hermione who felt a little twinge of sorrow for his situation.

"Turn to page 113 in your potions books," Snape sat down at his desk in front of class. Something he rarely did. "Reading _quietly_ to yourselves," he glared at Hermione, then let his gaze turn to Harry.

Harry glared back at him.

Snape glanced down at some paperwork in front of him, Charlotte's old journal. The angry expression turned to despair... she wasn't coming back.

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_-Four weeks later-_

A rickety sign was swinging above Clothilde's head. It was hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles. Cigar in hand, she was a silhouette in the dim lamplight.

A couple raggedly looking wizards hobbled past. When she lifted her cold eyes and they were able to make out her armored visage they recognized her and gave her a wide berth.

An owl flew out of the murky morning fog on Knockturn Alley and dropped a letter for her... from Dumbledore.

_---------------------------------------------------------------------_

Clothilde slid her book of curses into a backpack, then rummaged through her room at Hogwarts throwing in potions and explosives she might need along the way. Her eyes went to the old yearbook suddenly, to the photos of the faculty and of the younger Snape... She smiled a bit sentimentally at the way he looked there and set that gently into her pack as well. Dumbledore expected her to move hastily so she went through her things as fast as she could. She donned the armor she had shucked off in a hurry once weeks ago she dashed out the door.

No one was in sight. Just the dark dungeon hallway lit by candlelight.

Clothilde sprinted down the hall, jogged up a flight of back stairs and out a side door into the cold.

"Charlotte-"

_Snape's voice._

She turned around slowly. She hadn't wanted him to see her.

He stood at the door, slightly out of breath. Her eyes went immediately to the crimson trim at his collar.

"Nice robes. Is that _S_ for Slytherin?"

"No, Severus." He glided over to her silently.

"I just stopped by to get my things from Hogwarts."

His eyes widened. "Why is that?"

"Well, I'm obviously no longer guarding Harry but Dumbledore has asked me to do something else for the _Order_."

"You are leaving then?"

She glanced down at their footprints in the snow, and said almost inaudibly, "yes."

Snape stood very still, his lips parted but she spoke first.

"You did that for me." Clothilde gestured to his robes and then met his eyes.

He touched the red embroidery on one of his wrists absently. "Yes. I had it made because of you."

A lopsided smile spread across her face and she turned away to hide it. "But... why?"

"Because," he glided toward her, "because I've loved you since I taught you to duel. I see no reason to deny this any longer." This honest little admission spoken with due strength faltered a little when he realized he had just said it aloud and to her.

Clothilde was staring back at him quite astonished.

"I love you." His eyes darted up at hers then to the ground just as swiftly.

All around the school was deserted. Everyone was inside at dinner, everyone but them. The wind swept snow up and around Snape's thin black form as he dared not look up at her.

"I'm at the Headmaster's mercy. He needs me to be where I am best suited... as a mercenary," she said despairingly.

"You needn't go, Hogwarts needs a dueling instructor-"

"Oh Severus, please don't fall apart on me now. You know I have to do this."

He pulled back briskly wiping his eyes.

"Yes, you're right of course." His tone was icy, his face the mask she remembered as a student.

Snape made a bit of a clucking noise with his tongue looking at her as if deciding something, then turned on heel, his black robes billowing behind him.

"Severus," she caught his hand in hers.

He looked down at her hand in his uncertainly, then lifted his glittering eyes to meet her own.

"I will write to you."

He raised an eyebrow. What a ridiculous lie. "I don't need your pity Charlotte."

She could barely stand to see him in so much pain. Clothilde threw her arms around his neck in a sudden surge of emotion.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice was teary and muffled in his soft hair.

He made little effort to hold her and so she pulled away, sniffling a bit and looked up at him.

"I don't want to leave you. I just have to leave so I can do my part against You-Know-Who. When I say _I will write_ I do mean it, because that's as close as I can get without being here- it's all I will be able to do."

He looked over her armored form, the long blue cape, the white fur caressing her face...

"I love you," she whispered.

Snape crushed her body against his, enveloping her in his long black robes. She hid her face away in the crook of his neck, wanting to deny that she truly did have to leave. Longing for a life with him...

He looked out over the quiet snow covered grounds sadly.

In the distance the smoke of hundreds of chimneys were rising into the air as late afternoon was becoming evening and the snow was falling, muffling the sounds at Hogwarts and gently into their hair.

-End-


End file.
